


A Pact in Light and Flames

by Malesherbes



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Story, Angst, Gen, Gods fight while throwing punchlines at eachother, Illustrated Fic, Inspired by Shakespirean drama, Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Physical and Mental Abuse, Poor Grimm, Tragedy, Wyrm shenanigans, angst as always, dubcon, foreshadowing overdose, free interpretation of wyrm visions, mentions of torture, old english, tags and ratings might change, the nightmare king is not a good guy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 48,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29640162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malesherbes/pseuds/Malesherbes
Summary: In which a promise written in pale light weaves together two destinies, because everything has a price, the past is plagued with regrets and the future is darkened by prophecies.Or, Grimm meets a Wyrm under a montain, the two make a pact, withour realising where this will take them.
Relationships: Brumm & Grimm (Hollow Knight), Grimm/The Pale King (Hollow Knight), The Pale King/White Lady (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 107
Kudos: 56





	1. under the mountain

Young Grimm hopped from stone to stone, holding on as well as he could, not to be swept away by the wind. He had been walking for a very long time, now, and the mountain was hard to climb, its sharp rocks were erected in the glacial wind like dull knives, its form was made savage and fierce by crags and cliffs everywhere, and its summit, above the clouds, rose high like a dark, dilapidated crown.

It was too high for life to bloom in here, even the tiniest lichens had stopped growing, the only places that were not sharp stone were covered in ice and snow. Even with the heavy coat he had brought just for the occasion, the young Grimm was trembling with cold. How much easier it would have been to just take flight and reach the summit with his wings! Curse this blizzard that never stopped! He blew on his fingers that were now turning numb and continued his route. This could not be much farther, he had been walking for so long now, he was so high! If this kept up any longer, he would end up dying pitifully, buried in the snow, become a tiny frozen corpse … Most unfitting end for the vessel of nightmare’s burning flame! The thought gave him courage, and Grimm continued despite the Blizzard’s intensity.

Snow was everywhere, now, making it difficult to see anything even a few meters away, Grimm only followed the direction of the slope, hoping that would not lead him to a dead end or a precipice. Hopefully, there was now something in front of him, the high silhouette of a lonely peak, piercing violently though the sky. And in front of him, only a few steps away, it was here: the entrance!

There was the entrance of a great cave, and from its depths came the sound of something breathing. An unfathomably huge thing, it seemed, given the sound it produced. This creature, probably, was destructive and deadly, a fitting denizen for such an inhospitable habitat.

Young Grimm entered the large tunnel, wearily, he advanced in the darkness of this strange lair.

From the beginning, this was a very risky move, believing the rumors that were spread amongst the inhabitants of the woodlands far below, about the monster that had elected this austere mountain as its new residence. The fickle dwellers of this lush forest were saying the strangest things about this creature : that is was immense, bigger than any bug, that it could devour the most absurd things, like rocks, or trees, or even houses, some also said that it could wander in their dreams, that it had strange powers over nature and mind. Others said that this was the guardian spirit of the mountain, that it was the source of the tempest that always enrobed its summit, and that it should be considered like some kind of deity, who would bring fresh water in their brooks, snow in winter, the stones that rolled down the mountain might even contain a bit of its power. And then they were the sayings of the colony of firebugs that lived beneath the roots of that great oak, pretending that they had seen this beast retreating into the white summit a long time ago, and that it was a magician that guarded many different kinds of knowledge hidden beneath the high peaks.

Grimm could not untangle truths and unfounded beliefs. On one hand, this whole mission could be completely foolish: it was likely that it was just a mindless beast, a monster that was impressive for the locals because of its huge body and destructive urges, but whose mind was like those of the lowest creatures, that only lived to eat and breed. On the other hand, Grimm could understand the beliefs of the peoples of the mountain’s green slope. Now that he was trespassing in its lair, he admitted that there was something awe inspiring about the creature, even from afar.

The young Grimm continued, thinking about his goal to gain courage. He was the vessel of the nightmare heart, there was a god within him, thus, he should not be afraid of monster, even if they seemed of great might and immense in size !

Now that he was deeper in the tunnel, the air was no longer filled by the screeches of the blizzard outside. The temperature, too, was becoming a lot more bearable. Warmth was coming from the earth, and from the creature that inhabited it. The breathing was louder, now, and it appeared from the regularity of the sound that the creature was asleep. Good thing, young Grimm thought, it would not be very funny to be suddenly faced with a wide awake monster.

The tunnel was getting narrower, and strange details caught young Grimm’s eyes: On the ground, scattered haphazardly, were a variety of things: A very long piece of blue fabric, something like a mobile with colorful stones and figures engraved in metal, a large collection of very big feathers, that were all beautiful in their shapes and colors. The more he approached the end of the lair, the more numerous the objects become, until it seemed that the cavern’s walls were made of these accumulated trinkets. This was an odd collection, too, and even if it gave Grimm some hopes regarding the intelligence of the creature, it also made him uneasy, now, he felt like he was trespassing into something that was truly a private domain, and that his intrusion would probably anger the inhabitant of the place.

Then, Grimm saw it: this was the very bottom of the lair, that had the shape of a round cavity. From roof to ground, the cave was covered in these various things, and in the center, there was the creature. The very light sounds of Grimm’s footstep had not woken it, thankfully, and it was still sound asleep. In this situation, the creature was not as terrifying as young Grimm had envisioned: It was very long and of a pure white color, looking like a kind of serpent coiled on itself, its body shifted very slightly with each breath. Grimm also noticed that there were countless scars on the creature’s body, which was not a very good sign for him, at it probably indicated an aggressive behavior. One of them, in particular, was quite striking, it was far larger than the other and it ran across half of its body. Grimm wondered what gigantic weapon could have left such a mark.

Young Grimm sat down in front of the creature, feeling unsure. Waking up the beast would probably be very dangerous, and he didn’t exactly come here to become the diner of a giant worm. Waiting for an idea to cross his mind, Grimm examined the lair more closely. The fact that all these random objects had been transported here was almost funny. Beasts of this kind truly had strange customs, making their nests with things like precious stones, feathers, other strange contraptions coming from foreign cultures. There was even a huge piece of fabric made of different types of wool, a thing so large that it could be used to renovate his entire circus .

Grimm was brutally brought back to reality by a sonorous growl coming from the creature. Now, it was uncoiling in front of him, and he could see its head and above all … Its teeth. Grimm took back its prior thoughts. This beast was as terrifying as he expected!

The huge creature let out a low rumble, and stopped moving altogether, its teeth just inches away from Grimm’s face.

Then, he heard it, echoing in his mind, the creature’s voice ( so it was intelligent after all). The creature voice was impressive and resounding, but it also sounded weary, and half asleep.

“ What dost thou want, little creature? Who allowest thee to disturb my sleep ?”

“ My name is Grimm, he answered. I came here because I heard you were a magician. If it is true, I want your advice, perhaps your aid.”

The creature growled menacingly and said :

“ The Wyrm now perceiveth. Thou keepest a god in thy mind, small creature, but thy god is new, thy god is weak. Itself it doth not sustain. Servants, it needeth still, like infant fed, base and pitiful.”

Grimm felt the heart of nightmares swell in indignation at the insult and struggled to keep it from launching itself into the creature’s mind.

“About this matter, Grimm said, I have a child. However, like myself, he is bound to serve in the ritual, and finally be consumed, like all other vessels of the nightmare heart. This is the way it sustains itself. But I want to save him, my child, even if it’s just this one, I want him to have a real life.”

The creature – the wyrm- let out a long gurgle that almost sounded like a laugh.

“ Against thy god, thou rebellest, vessel of nightmares. How strange its punishment thou dost not face yet . “

“ This is not rebellion, Grimm objected. At least it is not as long as I find a way to let the nightmare heart be sustained. If you really know magic like some people of these lands pretend, tell me if there’s a way to escape this !”

The wyrm gurgled again, projecting a feeling of amused glee.

“ For thy own life thou hopest, fearful one, and yet so fearlessly thou askest. But why would the wyrm responde to thy request ?”

Grimm felt a surge of hope in his heart ( his own heart, not the heart of nightmare, the heart that desired more than this, that craved a life for his child, a life of his own).

“ I’ll pay the price you ask for, he said, a little too quickly perhaps. Just state what you want in exchange and I’ll give it to you !”

This time, Grimm could swear he could here the wyrm’s giggles beneath its growl.

“ Grudges the wyrm should bear, for thou trespassest in its den. Yet the absurdity of thy claim amuseth the wyrm. Thus it should grant thy request, wouldst thou pay the price.”

Even if it was clear as day that the creature was listening to him only for its own entertainment, Grimm felt incredibly grateful. Finally, maybe the many trials he had faced, the harsh walk into the mountain, all this would finally be rewarded.

“ What do you want ?”, he asked, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.

The long creature seemed to hesitate, it made a full turn in its cavern and came back to him.

“ In truth, the wyrm doth not know yet what it should ask for. A thing of importance it must be, but the wyrm hath no idea…”

Grimm was a little suspicious of the creature, now. Like most beings that had to do with magic, it appeared whimsical, and could not be fully trusted.

“The wyrm hath thought of an arrangement most pleasing, the creature continued. For now, against little payment, it will grant thy request. But when the wyrm will truly need, thou wilst be summoned at its service. This shall be a pact between the wyrm and thou. In mind it shall be sealed, and no party shall yield its end of the contract. “

Grimm was now very suspicious. Making a pact with this creature meant that he could be tricked in countless ways: worst of all, he had clearly stated the things he wanted from the wyrm, but in return, it had not said anything about what it would ask. They were many signs here that there was some kind of trickery involved in this proposal.

Grimm thought about it again and again. Sure, this wyrm was suspicious. Hell! It was shady! Now it was humming and growling in the back of its den, surely feeling self-satisfied about pulling an unfair trick on him. However, this chance was unique, Grimm would probably never find such an occasion again. If he did not act now, if he did not accept, the only thing left would be an eternity of servitude for him and his descendants, for many others who would lose mind under masks and become the mirthful yet desperate slave of this thing that only craved life …

_Shadows dream of endless fire,_

_Flames devour and embers swoop,_

_One will light the Nightmare Lantern,_

_Call and serve in Grimm’s dread Troupe_ …

Even if it meant being tricked by the creature, being pulled in some other seal that could take his liberty away, it also meant that his child would not be another tool, another vessel for the endless perpetuation of the red flame, that it would not have to grow up knowing how it came to power, what dreadful deeds had been accomplished to let it be the new Grimm…

_A spark of red lights darkest dream,_

_Scarlet nightmares bright and wild,_

_Visions dance and flames do speak,_

_Burn the father, feed the child._

Even if he would be punished for this (the nightmare king, the heart, their revenge for such a deed would be cruel, no doubt), he should seize this chance. The nightmare king was already there, in the back of his mind, glaring threateningly at him, thriving for its own rebirth, though it was from the flames of his kin.

_Dance and die and live forever,_

_Silent voices shout and sing,_

_Stand before the Troupe’s dark heart,_

_Burn away the Nightmare King._

He needed courage for this, the heart, the king, they could be incredibly creative in their cruelty, but still, in the realm of things made of dust and flesh, their power were limited. He could act now, and this was now or never.

“ I accept”, Grimm said.

The moment it pronounced the word, the white symbols of the wyrm’s seal of promise surrounded him with a sharp, blinding light, and he felt the spell binding them to their words slowly making its way in his flesh, into the deepest parts of his being.

“ Very well, little creature, Laughed the beast. The wyrm will grant thy wish, but first, thou willst have to fulfill one of its simple desires. See, little creature, the wyrm for a long time hath slept, and now, it is … ravenous. Bring good food here, little nightmare, one that is famed in these lands, in quantity matching the appetite of the wyrm. By the granting of thy wish, thou shalt be rewarded.”

On these words, the wyrm coiled itself again and got back to sleep, leaving Grimm at loss in the cavern. The beast called it a simple task, but in reality, this would be a feat, to be able to grant this request.

Grimm sighed and vanished in a puff of red flames. At least, now that he knew the emplacement of the wyrm’s lair, he could teleport in and out at will, sparing him the grueling walk through the mountains.

Surrounded with his flames, he appeared in the main tent of the troupe. He could perceive him clearly, now. In the corner of his eye, the nightmare king was smirking dreadfully, piercing through him with furious eyes. The end of this day was drawing near now, and how Grimm dreaded the moment his eyes would have to close.

Trying to savor each second before the inevitable moment, he walked towards the members of his troupe.

“Brumm, how much money do we currently have ?”

“2000 gold, master, and some more.”

“And what is the specialty of this region, in terms of food?”

“I believe it is roast with honey sauce, master.”

“Order five quintals of it for tomorrow.”

“Master, I understand the Grimmchild is voracious, but isn’t it too much?”

“Do as I say. This is important.”

Grimm found some amusement in Brumm’s dejected expression. The poor bug was about to lose his mind, with such a strange request. Later, perhaps, he could explain.

However, his time with Brumm today, as amusing as it could be, was now drawing to a close. He could feel the power of the nightmare king pushing away his consciousness. This was about to come. He couldn’t do anything about it, he would have to endure, endure as long as their power possessed his mind, and then, maybe …

Grimm lost consciousness at once, his mind taken over by red flames.


	2. Red Chains and Night Shades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare king does not agree with Grimm's plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING : this chapter contains depictions of physical and psychological abuse.

Grimm opened his eyes and grumbled painfully. In front of him, the nightmare heart was pulsing with intensity and rage, emitting a creeping aura of darkness. He was there too, of course, the nightmare king, staring through him with his terrible smirk, all draped in red flames.

He felt it then, the burning shackles around his mind, keeping him in the nightmare with its cruel restraints. The flames, even if it was all a dream, were agonizing, they ensnared his legs and wrists like acidic tongues that sent their burn right through his bones with horrid intensity.

The nightmare king advanced towards him, as elegant as ever, and even if he was trying to keep his composed demeanour, his rage was unmistakable, it burned brightly in his flames and his eyes.

“ My, my, dearest Grimm, my adorable child, he spat, his tone poisonous. It seems you’re entering your rebellious phase, isn’t it ?”

Grimm did not answer, had he wanted to say something, he would not have been able to. The fear and the pain surging through him were too much, all he could do was stare quietly while his body began to shake. The king looked at him with a mix of scorn and satisfaction as he continued :

“ No answer, eh ? Too bad for your, Grimm! Your father was more obedient. But true, he knew what awaited him if he were to defy me. “

The heart trembled with sadistic pleasure as the nightmare king took one step closer, his face now inches away from Grimm’s own.

“ How forgetful I must have been, isn’t it ? Silly me ! To think that I omitted to show you the ways I can punish those who stray from the path of the troupe. What a terrible mistake, I’m sincerely sorry, sweetheart, but now, this little slip will be repaired !”

Grimm felt the pain becoming more intense, as he saw the nightmare flames gnawing at his mind, the heart was ready to consume his life and awaited patiently, with vicious desire. He felt the flames crawling on shell and skin, taking the shapes of branches and chains. ( Endure it, he thought, endure it, for him, survive, just a little more, endure it!)

“ Poor, poor little Grimm, the nightmare king whispered in his hear, did you forget that your mind is not your own? You can’t hide anything from me !”

The nightmare king clicked his finger, and in a small, scarlet flame, the Grimmchild appeared in front of him.

No, no, no, Grimm thought, not this please, don’t !

The Grimmchild, still in its first form, was panicking and let out little screeches of terror as it tried to fly away from the flames.

“ Did you truly believe I would not notice, Grimm ? Even if this little devil will eventually consume your flame ? How wonderful ! yes, marvellous truly, that you could feel such a thing for your vile spawn!”

The barrier of flames narrowed around the Grimmchild that was now howling desperately.

“ Stop it, nightmare king, stop, and I’ll do anything , just let him go !”

“ You’re lucky that I know you cannot make another one like this, the nightmare king hissed, or I would have burned this one in front of your very eyes !”

With a snap of his fingers, the king revoked Grimmchild out of the dream.

Grimm felt that he had begun to cry some time ago. From his despair and suffering, nightmare essence was gathering around them, being greedily absorbed by the heart.

The nightmare king turned toward him and released the burning chains in the most painful way he could have.

“ Did I hear it right, dear ? Did you say: I’ll do anything ? How wonderful, my cute little Grimm is becoming reasonable now, doesn’t he ?”

Grimm nodded, he felt empty, now, his will, broken.

“ But you put us in quite the predicament, by making this little contract with the big worm… It’s magic is powerful, I can feel it inside you, disgusting, white magic !”

The king spat a flame on the ground in sheer disgust.

“ However, this is a foolish creature, it underestimated us, it thinks this is just another game.”

The king continued his speech, stroking Grimm’s head, still through sharp teeth and cruel smile.

“Do you know what you will do tomorrow, my dearest ?”

Grimm shook his head, now he only felt confused and disheartened.

“ Tomorrow, you will kill the big worm, and everything will go back as it was before, we’ll still be a happy family …”

Hearing these words, Grimm felt the urge to throw up.

“ And do you know how you will kill it, my child ?”

Grimm shook his head again, feeling unable to think or say a single word. The king whispered, with that dreadful smirk of his :

“ You will put poison in its food, and then it will die, and it will be like nothing happened.”

Grimm felt his shoulder shaking, as his last bit of hope was now being burnt away. He looked at the king with empty eyes and empty mind, because he felt so tired now, he couldn’t do anything from the beginning, didn’t he, from the very beginning, this plan was doomed.

“ Now, Grimm, were you to disobey me once again … I let you imagine the things that could happen.”

The nightmare king let out a sinister snigger as he disappeared in dark flames within the heart.

Obscure mist took over the reddish glow and then, it was over.

…

Grimm woke up covered in sweat, with tears in is eyes, feeling sore in every limb, as if the flames of the nightmare king had taken over even his physical body. He saw the Grimmchild curled up on his lap, at least, it was sleeping peacefully, with no memory of the nightmare. He stroke it absentmindedly, listening to its purring as he stared into the darkness. This was foolish of him, after all, to think that one day, they could be free. His mistakes had almost cost him the life of his child, and now, he even had to kill the white wyrm, even if it had nothing to do with the troupe or the nightmare heart. Foolish, indeed, to hope. Hopes belonged to the realm of dreams, to the golden realm of the heart’s shining kin, dreams were not a thing someone like him could reach.

Grimm heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind the curtain that closed the entrance of his room.

“ Master ? Can I come in ?”

This was Brumm’s voice. He sounded tired and worried. Well, Brumm always worried for something. He answered :

“ Yes, Brumm, you can come”.

Brumm entered and looked at him with a mix of sympathy and pain.

“ Master, he asked, are you okay ? You were crying in your sleep. Was it the heart ?”

“ Yes”, Grimm answered.

Brumm did not speak much, but he understood a lot. He was the only member of the troupe who understood what their life truly meant, and just for this reason, it felt comforting to be around him. Brumm was here from a very long time, even when he was still a tiny Grimmchild, Brumm was the one who had seen him spit his first fireball, he had helped him and protected him as he was growing up, even in the darkest times, when Grimm had understood why his father wasn’t there anymore, why, within himself, he could always feel his flame. He had been full of sadness and anger, and it was Brumm who had restrained him when he was about to thrash the circus, it was Brumm who helped him fight the despair and anger that had burned through his heart.

He felt Brumm’s arm around his shoulder, Brumm’s voice humming in a comforting way.

“ Brumm … he said. I’ve made a terrible mistake, and now I have to do something awful . What should I do ?”

“ Do not worry, master. This is not your fault. This is the heart.”

Grimm felt that he was crying again, and this time, he let the tears flow, Brumm had seen him being worse than this, when he was still very young and throwing flames all around was the only way he knew to express his feelings, so he let it go.

“ Brumm, I’m so stupid, I really thought that …”

“ It’s okay, master. This is the will of the heart. None of this is your fault.”

“ Brumm, please… Can you stay a bit longer ?”

“ Master. Do not worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

Together under the tent, they waited for the end of the night.

...

Grimm got out very early, when the sky was still tinged in deep blue, and the moon was high, surrounded with stars. This was a foggy morning, with the sounds of great winged creatures singing far above, with the sounds of dewdrops falling on young leaves and clear, gurgling brooks. He could see it clearly, now, the great mountain, emerging from a grey sea of mist. The mountain was beautiful, white and blue, and it even seemed that the tempest that always clouded its summit had faded away during the night. Now, the great peaks could be seen clearly, with their dark forms cut into the sky … For afar, it really did look like an old crown.

From the road below, he saw a long line of chariots arriving, led by a tribe of beetles. The chariots were full of roast meat, that was gathered in front of the tent in improbable quantity. The beetles departed, now carrying most of the Grimm troupe’s gains for the past few years, obviously very happy to have made such a trade, even if it was the strangest menu they had ever delivered.

Grimm used hemlock and deadly nightshade that were growing everywhere to obtain large quantities of poison, something that could kill a beast large like the wyrm and poured it in the food. Then, he summoned flames all around the tent in which the meat had been stored and used a great proportion of his magic to teleport it into the wyrm’s lair.

Everything fell onto the floor of a tunnel with a loud thud.

As soon as he had appeared in the den under the mountain, Grimm heard the wyrm crawling towards him. He felt stupid and powerless, hearing the wyrm’s growls in front of its food.

“Thy mission thou hast well accomplished, little nightmare. The wyrm, as sworn, thy wish will grant. But first, its appetite will be satiated!”

Grimm felt his hand being slowly lifted, giving a hint of a sign … How he wanted to shout though the cavern, to tell it to stop, to urge it with all his might, but he could not. He was so powerless, now. Stupid, stupid, the words echoed though his mind, and the nightmare king was laughing with macabre glee …

It was true. The wyrm was ravenous. With its sharp teeth, it was tearing through the meat as if if was prey. In less than a few minutes, it had already finished.

The wyrm recoiled in the back of its cavern, and stopped moving.

The cavern was now plunged in an awful silence, as Grimm waited, unsure of what he should do next. Trembling, he advanced towards the creature, ready to make sure it was really dead.

He wanted to make another step, to get closer, but he did not dare. A creature like this would not die so easily, surely, it would move, surely … The nightmare king shifted in the back of his mind, and Grimm let out a slow breath. It was dead, now, it had to be.

He turned on his feet, and made a step towards the exit.

Suddenly, he stopped.

Resounding through his mind, full of anger … the voice.

“ Little nightmare … Why ?”

_Brûle donc, enfant des flammes,_

_Brûle donc ta petite âme_

_Et lorsque soufflera le vent_

_Il sera là devant ta porte_

_Le très vieux roi des feuilles mortes_

_Il dira « suis moi maintenant. »_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare king ... 
> 
> ... now the author hates you, prepare yourself !


	3. Battle of Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wyrm regrets its foolishness and launches into a desperate attack

The wyrm was feeling it, now, the poison burning through its veins, slowly getting to its heart, to its brain, already, it was difficult to move, an its vision was obscured.

The wyrm raged at its own foolishness, for trusting this creature so easily, just because there was the pact, the seal of promise, it thought the creature would …

No . This was not true. This was not the reason why the wyrm had given it its trust so easily, it was because this creature was different, because it did not come to the mountain with a troupe in arms or a sword in its hand, because it did not throw torches and smoke bombs to chase it away from its domain, because the creature had spoken with the wyrm and did not recoil in fear. Such foolishness, indeed, such folly, all this because the wyrm, for the short time of their discussion, had not felt so lonely.

This was to be expected, one day or another, it was bound to happen. Not because of the resilience of its enemies, nor because of their might: the reason was that even after so many years wandering alone in the world, the wyrm was still as naïve and silly as it was in the days of its youth, that it kept making the same mistakes over and over.

This was like that the last time too, the wyrm had been seduced very easily because this was a thing that was strange and new, because it could not contain its own curiosity, it had ventured in the town of the tall creatures. True, the tall creatures were interesting, they only had four limbs, no shell, but instead they covered themselves in colorful fabric. They had towns with houses that were immense like trees, and fires, strange customs, music, sometimes they danced in the night and sang uncanny anthems in their language that was beautiful and foreign, they were so tall, too, so much taller than common bugs, even the wyrm, compared to them did not appear so frightening. They were all the same, still, as soon as they spotted the wyrm roaming above their huge cities, they had welcomed it with fire and arrows, arrows that were impossibly long and tore through flesh like it was nothing, and then, there was the one creature with that shining shell, its shell was beautiful and cold, its metallic appearance reflected sunlight and it truly looked like a god, at that time, the strange being all draped on iron and light, riding proudly on a great steed, with banners floating in the wind … Of course the wyrm had stopped, gazing in fascination at this new creature, so careless, so stupid, of course it failed to avoid the spear.

This time, too, pitifully, it had fled, not even thinking of using its magic, it had disappeared over the mountain, while the crowd cheered at the shining knight’s victory.

The wyrm had thought it had learned its lesson, by now, when it retreated into the highest peak to let its wounds heal and to sleep, when it had cast a powerful spell of wind magic around the white summit so that no one would come to bother it again. It had thought itself resolute, to stay into the wild, this time, high up on the mountain, above the clouds, above the bothers of civilization, ready to devour any creature that dared trespass into its domain, it had sworn to become secretive and dangerous, to destroy, and then to sleep, in its fortress of shredded crags and raging winds, so that it would not be hurt again.

And yet, when the creature had come, the wyrm had not killed it. The wyrm had listened to it, the wyrm had accepted its proposal, this time, too, it had felt curiosity, a sense of wonder at the godly things hidden in the creature’s mind, wonder at the colour of its flames, at its language, at its voice, its desperation.

Such foolishness !

Now the wyrm was paying the price of its own stupidity. Of course it was a trap ! What else could it be ? What other possible reason could there be for a creature, to try talking to the wyrm ?

“ Little nightmare … why ?”

Why ? Foolishness again, stupid enough for the wyrm to laugh out loud. How could it ask why, when there was only one answer, from the very beginning, it was always the same, every settlement, every place, it never changed, and it could still ask why ? From the very beginning of its life, the answer had been clear as day, this was the answer for every single thing, for the knight’s shining spear, for the arrow, for the nest burning in the night, for the scattered corpses of kin, for the great army with golden helmets in which fire was reflected so beautifully, for poisonous smokes, for the great mother trapped in chains, swords everywhere, hundreds of swords in the heart of kin …

The wyrm whispered:

“Slayer.”

Its anger was growing, now, even if life was slowly dissipating, even if blood felt clogged and corrupted, the wyrm’s mind was swelling with rage.

“Slayer !”

In front of him, this was no longer the small creature, the little nightmare, the vessel of something that mocked the wyrm from its diminished reality. This was the knight, the silver knight with white banner and spear, the red knight with two swords and a black cape, the grey knight with her heavy flail, the golden knight with his poisoned blades…

“Slayer! Slayer!”

Though its body did not seem to be able to move, the wyrm’s mind was full of magic, it brandished its spells, its white bindings, its mind runes, world runes, ready to vanquish the very heart of this one creature, the source of its power, its smirking dream hidden in shadows, the wyrm would tear apart all the power it held, and then, when it would be only the creature left, only the vessel, without its little god of nightmare, the wyrm would delight, seeing it wriggling in agony and fear before its power, it would consume all of it, like it had devoured the red knight captive in mind chains, and the grey knight with her arms torn apart!

“Slayer! Die! Slayer!”

The wyrm surrounded the creature with its spells, casting a magic of pain and terror around its mind, how it delighted, now, in the slayer’s expression, that was full of terror, as it should be, full of awe faced with the power of the wyrm, full of … Hope?

With a terrifying cry that echoed through the whole mountain, the wyrm launched itself into the creature’s mind, ready to tear its heart apart.

…

The nightmare king saw a myriad of white seals appear into his domain, surrounding him and the heart.

“ Tch ! The big worm wants to die with panache? Pitiful. But since it trespasses in my realm … Let’s give it the show it’s looking for !”

He turned towards the grimmkin and bowed deeply, smiling with delight.

“ Prepare, audience, prepare, you will witness a dance worth a thousand flames !”

The mind of Wyrm appeared within the dreams, surrounded with terrifying magic, white spells around the winged light of its spirit, chains of light already surrounding the nightmare heart.

“ Well then, the nightmare king laughed. Let’s dance !”

With a powerful roar, the mind of wyrm launched its many attacks at the heart and the nightmare king. Light taking the form of sharp teeth, ferocious winds raging around his flames, the shape of mind runes turning all over in a destructive swirl.

The nightmare king had to admit, this creature fought beautifully, with expert use of seals of destruction and seals of binding, it was simultaneously launching devastating attack and putting boundaries on the heart’s power, reclaiming the nightmare realm as its own.

With an expression of satisfaction and glee, the nightmare king launched a streak of his most devastating attacks, engulfing the wyrm’s light in his flames.

“ Don’t be so mean, little earthworm, I have all the time in the world ! Let’s take it slowly, for our first dance!”

“ Slayer !” The creature raged, unleashing even more of its power.

“ But I was forgetting, silly earthworm, you don’t have time, do you ? Your body is dying over there because of your gluttony !”

The nightmare king kept spitting venomous words, but despite his usual confidence, he felt alarmed, he felt the heart weakening under the creature’s attacks, while the white light always seemed to escape his own.

“ Slayer ! The wyrm exclaimed, unsightly reject of larger dreams, lacking body, lacking might, lacking reality! Thy essence the wyrm will consume!”

The nightmare king felt a shining ray burn through his wings, and launched a large wave of red fire in retaliation. How could it ? The creature was dying, how could its mind be so powerful ?

“ Begone already, stupid worm, he hissed. Don’t you realize that you’re already dead ?”

The creature screeched, and the king saw with horror that a large blade of light was plunged into the nightmare heart, which was now releasing its scarlet essence.

“Parasite ! Already signed is thy demise ! In visions engraved is thy loss ! Bow in despair while thou still exist !”

The nightmare king let out a cry of rage, with red spikes and red flames thrashing through the creature’s mind, he continued the fight, ( because this was no longer a dance, because he was feeling it, the thrill he had longed for, and the heart was slowly dying…) But what victory it would be ! What fabulous essence the heart would get! How powerful truly, and for this goal to be achieved… the only thing he had to do was vanquish a monster that was already dying.

It seemed to continue for an eternity, so long that he felt his magic being slowly drained, and it still battled fiercely, this wyrm, even if it was as injured as he was himself, even if its body, surely was so close to death, it still fought with immense power.

“ Though weakenest, nightmare, the wyrm growled. Thy essence limited, hungry thy heart!”

“ Stop talking, ghost ! You’re wasting the last seconds of your life !”

Another blade pierced through the nightmare heart, making it screech and deflate, releasing a black essence, the deepest part of its nightmares, the heart, the king realized, the heart was loosing itself in the darkness of awake minds, its red glow now tarnished, and his own soul his own flames, were also blackened.

“How is it possible ?” The nightmare king asked.

The only answer was a strike of blinding light, it pierced through his chest, and…

It was so dark, now, glowing embers , the only remnants, around him, no sound, nothing, no echo of the heart beating, just the small red embers, vanishing in darkness. How could it be, him the god of nightmares, losing to a dying beast ? The ember’s glow seemed so weak, now, and the nightmare king was burning with rage.

Though he was now reduced to a weakened state, separated from his enslaved troupe, without servant to feed him with the flames, the nightmare king remained. As long as nightmares haunted the sleep of living creatures, as long as the civilizations of the earth would be born and disappear and despair, the nightmare heart would still be alive, beating, very softly into darkness.

No matter how long he had to wait, no matter the fate of the creature...

“I will come back, the nightmare king swore, I will come back and take my revenge !”

His voice faded in silence, leaving no echoes.

The nightmare king clasped the burning ambers, feeling their heat burn through his hands. It was still alive, still burning, still alive, keep living…

Suddenly, the nightmare king felt very alone, and somehow, disheartened.

He felt very alone, almost desperate, the way he was at the time of their separation, the time of his birth…

And there was this thing, too, the glorious, golden sun that was rising, far away in the darkness, with its own light, dream light. She was back, now, and he could not escape.

“My poor little brother ! What have they done to you ?”

How gleeful she sounded, now, the very old light, how cruel too …

“How pitiful ! Losing to a dying worm … Poor, poor little nightmare, what a shame you must feel!”

He hated the way her smile reflected his own, the smile in her eyes, viciously, brightly burning …

“ If I didn’t know already the pitiful reject you are, I would be ashamed myself.”


	4. Just Grimm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimm becomes aware of his freedom and tried to repair the nightmare king's deeds.

The nightmare faded, its flames disappeared somewhere in the darkness, somewhere far away, it was vanquished, it was utterly defeated, the heart of power the small creature had, now destroyed, taken apart. With delight and rage, the wyrm tried to open its eyes to the real world, to finally destroy it, the slayer, to take revenge, at least once, it tried to get back, but …

The white mist surrounded it now, and all around, looming close, an everchanging sky of ominous colours was swirling. This was the shape of time passing, of eyes peering beyond the things they should see, of clouds moving very fast and stars turning above the barren world, the feeling of a sight that was dangerous and forbidden, a bringer of awe, sealer of fate …

This was going to happen, now, the sky and the mist turned and formed a strange orb. The orb encompassed times past and times to come, the screeching of memories and the looming presence of foresight, it grew larger and larger until it was also the earth and the sky, the shapes and colours still whirling, still dark and foreboding, orb of planet and night, and a myriad of godly eyes …

The orb was the wyrm’s mind and its life, now, around it, it expanded, in a confused succession of sensations, something dizzying and heavy. 

Its three great eyes opened. The thrice awakened to past, present and future.

Vision. 

A golden sun rising.

Thousands of spears in the blue sky. 

A great white tree.

Two pairs of eyes staring, one of pure light, the other of pure flame. 

A golden mask.

A dark pit.

An empty shell. 

A great shadow. 

Pure dark.

Eight white eyes. 

The thing was here.

Staring at the wyrm through its own foresight …

Voice in mind:

“ How could you …”

The orb broke.

The vision faded.

The wyrm felt even sicker than it was before.

This time, it managed to open its eyes, though its vision was now unsure and blurry.

He was a few feet in front of it, now, the slayer, with his eyes wide open in surprise and fear, he was helpless, now, he would not be able to move, to defend himself … How he would regret his treachery ! The wyrm yearned for it, now, to tear his body apart, to drink his blood, to destroy him completely, the slayer that had come to the mountain with his heart full of deceit and lies, what a pleasure it would be, to utterly destroy …

The wyrm tried to launch itself on the helpless creature, to tear and scatter with its teeth, but it did not move. Its body did not respond. The poison had taken its full effect, now, and the memories of the vision began to merge with reality, the utter fear it felt, now, in this one sight that was so different, so lacking in meaning, and yet pointing to something frightening that was about to happen and that it could not escape … And the slayer, now, was rising slowly, approaching, the shape of the cave twisted around the reddish hues . The face of the slayer was strange. It was full of expressions the wyrm could not comprehend, so similar, too, to the red eyes that glared from times to come, and … It was worry ? Hope ? Gratitude ? Why would it feel such things, if the creature was truly slayer… regret ?  
It was producing sounds, too, though the wyrm failed to comprehend its meaning. Everything felt darker and more confuse, this was so pitiful, losing to such a stupid trick, even failing to completely achieve victory … But had the wyrm ever succeeded at anything, truly ?

The sound were louder, too, was he … calling ?

Sound lost its meaning. Sound, too, was slowly taking the hue of nightshades, in the darkness surrounding everything … What was it doing here ? Why did it hurt ? Why was it so dark ?

What was this red colour glowing so prettily ?

…

Grimm was feeling a thing unlike any other. His mind felt strangely empty, he could turn around as many times he wished, they were not here. No longer in is dreams, the red flames, no longer glaring from the corner of his eyes.

Grimm had seen everything. He had felt it, too, the fight that took place in his own mind, the wyrm’s fury, the spite and rage of the nightmare king, the way it had been pushed out of its realm, banished in the shadows between dreams and awake mind … It was here no longer.

No longer slave of flames, no longer servant of nightmare …

Did it mean that his child was free? No, not only the child, the troupe, too, even himself. 

Grimm felt himself being struck by the vast winds of liberty coming from the caverns, his mind full of questions he never dared to ask. What to do, where to go, what to want? This harsh, cold wind that had pushed away chains filled him with indescribable glee, a sense of victory, a sense of fear, of responsibility …

Grimm suddenly became aware of the white magic that shone faintly around him. The seal of promise the wyrm had placed, it was still here. The creature before him, even if it was enraged … It had fulfilled its end of the contract. It had freed his child, himself, and the troupe, even if Grimm had betrayed its trust …

But this was the king of nightmare. The creature had had its revenge now, maybe it could understand…

The wyrm was still in front of him, not moving, it did not project a single thought, only its breathing, that was now very faint, more so than in its sleep.

Grimm suddenly felt alarmed and ashamed. He could not believe that the creature could die from this, but what if it could? The troupe master knew that he would never be able to forgive himself if it did. In a puff of red flames, he teleported back to the circus. Though he did not think of what would happen upon his return.

The troupe members were all here, staring at him with disbelief. Only the Grimmchild did not seem to care about what happened, it was flying energetically around the tents, chewing of something that looked like Brumm’s shoe. All the others, though, were waiting for answers. 

“Master… The heart, it is gone. What happened?”

Brumm looked a little hopeful, saying these words, in contrast with the other troupe members that looked unsure and worried.

“The heart is gone , he began. It still exists, somewhere, but our link... It has been destroyed.”

The troupe members looked at each other, clearly, they did not grasp the meaning of this new situation.

“Master, does this mean …”

“Yes, Brumm. You’re right. This means we no longer have to live for the heart’s ritual.”

His declaration was welcomed with a mix of whispers and suspicious looks. Grimm could not blame them. From their perspective, the whole situation probably looked like a betrayal.

“But the heart ? Divine asked. Where is it? I can’t smell it!”

“ As I told you, it is gone. Now you don’t have to toil for it.”

Two Grimmkin looked at each other, and asked:

“ But with the heart gone, master, what is the purpose of our troupe ?”

Grimm felt at loss hearing this question. He didn’t have any answer for this. He did not even dare to think his plan would end up this way. Truly, he was as surprised and confused as the rest of the troupe.

“ I don’t know, he admitted. I guess it means you can do what you want from now. I’ll let your chose for yourself, what you want to do with the troupe. For now, there’s something important I have to do. Brumm, could you help me?”

Brumm nodded and followed him under the roots of the forest. 

“Brumm, I have to tell you what I did, when I went to the mountain. With the poison, too, I didn’t want to do this, but the nightmare king …”

“ It’s alright, master, Brumm answered. You can explain everything later. You want to make a cure, right, for the poison?”

“Yes. “

“You used nightshade, right?”

“Yes, and hemlock.”

“Master, you used that and you didn’t know the antidote ?”

Grimm felt a little ashamed, now, Brumm was about to scold him, and this … Would be an interesting moment.

“Master, you know I have some memories from before the troupe. In these times, my past self once met a tribe of mages with eight limbs and three eyes, they used the magic of nature, and plants. They had a saying that was very right, in my opinion. Do not learn the poisons without learning the remedies, in the art of plants, life and death shall never be taken apart!”

Grimm felt almost amused. This was the first time that he had seen Brumm being so loquacious. Exceptional moment, indeed.

“Well then, Brumm, could you please tell me the remedy ? I don’t have all the time in the world!”

“ Mmm. Patience, master. For night shade, use Jaborandi. For hemlock, none.”

“Thank you, Brumm, this is far from the ideal situation, but I think it could help a little.”

On these words, they began their search. “How inconvenient! Grimm cursed, why are the poisonous plants so common, when the remedy is so rare! This is unfair!”

Brumm chuckled at his master complaints. This reminded him of the time when he was still an insufferable winged child.

Finally, they managed to buy the plant they were looking for to a travelling merchant, thus spending the little money that was left in the troupe’s chest. 

“Brumm, do you want to come with me? I fear it could be dangerous.”

“Master… Let me.”

Red flames surrounded them for an instant, and they were back to the cavern.

A menacing aura came from the inside, in his mind, Grimm felt the echoes of the beast’s anger, its bitterness, its disappointment. All in all, finding the remedy was not the difficult part.   
Grimm just hoped that the beast could understand, that it would be able to forgive… Behind him, he heard Brumm’s voice: 

“I see what you did here, master. Fearless. Foolish. “

This time again, he advanced through the cavern, hoping that he would be able to repair the harm he did, even if it were in a menial way.

“Slayer …”

The voice in mind echoed, a whisper only now, even if it probably was full of rage, it just sounded tired.

“I am no slayer. I am Grimm. I’m sorry for what I did, I was forced into this by the god you banished, now I want to help you, please, listen to me!”

“Slayer. Thy words full of lies, thou comest with company, thy kill to reclaim.”

“No, I’m not, I came with a plant that will help you fight the poison, please, trust me, just this time.”

“Eager thou art to steed up Wyrm’s end, slayer. But though the stupidity of Wyrm is great, it still has limits. Thou wilt not fool it twice with the same trick!”

“I’m not trying to kill, I promise. I’m here to thank you. Because of what you did, my child, my people … now we’re all free.”

“ Seekest thou thine binding to escape ? Thine oath, forlorne ? This is not time for thee to answer the call of wyrm, begone, slayer!”

“I’m not lying, see !”

Grimm took two leaves in his mouth and swallowed, trying not to grimace at the taste.

The wyrm seemed to stop and think for a time.

“Well tried, slayer! Yet is thy trickery exposed. Remedy thou hast consumed, thy veins immune to bane. Cunning thou art, but too early thou hast exposed thy vile intents!”

Grimm cursed silently. Why had the wyrm decided to become smarter just now? 

“Well, then, if there’s no way to make you listen to reason … Brumm, come here.”

“What dost thou plot, slayer ?”

“My name is not slayer; my name is Grimm! And since you insist on refusing my help...”

Brumm compacted the leaves into a ball, and with fearsome precision, threw it into the creature’s gaping mouth. In front of them, the wyrm began to flail in all direction, trying to spit the leaves, but it failed, and fell back on the ground, groaning in rage.

“Come closer, slayer, come, let me end thy life !”

Grimm stepped back, and when he was at a safe distance, sat down, waiting for the creature to understand what had happened. True, it really needed a long time, long enough for him to explain to Brumm in detail everything that had happened. He tried to make his explanation as clear as possible, which was not the easiest thing, as they were constantly distracted by the angry growls and mumbled thought that came from the back of the cavern. 

“ So, yes, this is what happened. And I still have this spell cast on me, this seal of promise. It seems that one day, I don’t know when, it is supposed to do something.”

Brumm nodded, only shown his acquiescence with occasional grunts.

Then silence fell on the cavern, letting them wonder at its strange details.

Finally, the creature’s voice resounded again, stronger than it was before, but unsure, now, and still suspicious.

“Art thou … Slayer ?”

“For the third time, I am not “slayer”, I am Grimm!”

A long, uneasy silence.

“Slayer … Grimm.”

“Not slayer, just Grimm.”  
…

Silence again, filled with doubt.

“Just Grimm. Why?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Subliminal visions are a scary thing ...
> 
> Well done, Grimm and nightmare king ! Thanks to you Wyrm has trust issues !
> 
> The plants used for remedy and poison in these chapters are all real. But don't try this at home !


	5. Travels of day and night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grimm Troupe is freed and goes along its way.

“ We’ve talked while you were away, the grimmkin said. And we’ve made a decision. We’re not bound to the troupe anymore, true, but we don’t want to leave. We cannot go back to our past lives. Besides, now, the troupe is our family. Grimm, do you want to continue travelling together ?”

Grimm had felt so happy about their decision. Now that they were wandering from kingdom to kingdom, not to seek the desperate essence of nightmare, but to bring fun and joy with their shows, he enjoyed his new life more than ever. The traveling, the spectacles, with its lights, its music, the audience and its applauds… And the long ways between one place and the next, the evenings they shared around campfire, the new landscapes they discovered, the sight of his child growing up, speaking his first words, having so much fun with their shows, singing the new songs he learned from little friends met along the way.

Even if he enjoyed this life, after so many years, even if the times before, the times of the heart, now seemed unreal and far away, Grimm still thought of it, when the nights were silent and full of shining stars. It had become his little ritual before sleep, to observe the very faint light on his body, the light of the seal of promise, and to reminisce about the beast under the mountain.

He thought about the conversation they had had, of the solemn tone that was adopted through most of it, even if they seemed ridiculous when Grimm thought a little about it.

…

“ Just Grimm … Why ?”

“ What do you mean, why ?”

“ Why dost thou help the wyrm, when thou camest to slay ?”

“ Because I never wanted to hurt you ! This was the other one, the one you chased. Now that it is gone, I can do as I please, and what pleases me now is to help you.”

“ Why though, dost thou help ? The wyrm’s reward in promise is sealed, no duty binds thou, just Grimm, as long as thou art not called forth.”

“ My name is Grimm, not just Grimm, and even if there’s the pact, I wanted to help, for my own sake, if you want. It would make me feel bad if I let you there even if you literally just freed me and my whole troupe.”

“ Thy good deed from ignorance stems, Grimm. Thy ignorance the cause that thou art not Slayer.”

“ Why are you calling me ignorant ? That’s not very nice.”

“ The other names of wyrm thou dost ignore. Scourge, Fiend, Foe, Plague, Pest, Monster, such are its other names.”

“ This can’t be your name, those are just words. I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“ These are the wyrm’s names, for thus it is called.”

“ Wait a minute. Do you even know what a name is ?”

“ Of course the wyrm doth know. The wyrm is not so asinine as to ignore what is a name. A name is the words by which one is called. Little nightmare, Grimm, Master, Just Grimm, Slayer. Such are thy names.”

“ Oh, by nightmare and flames … You really don’t know what a name is !”

“ Mistaken thou art. The wyrm knows better. If thou art a knower of names as thou pretendest, tell the wyrm, tell it what is a name !”

“ A name is not just a random word by which someone calls you. A name is the word just for you, something that is often chosen by one’s parents, but you can change it, if you want. It’s important, you know, it shows that you are your own person, that you are unique. My name is Grimm, and that’s the way I call myself and I want others to call me. So what’s your name, then ?”

“ The wyrm’s name is wyrm.”

“ That’s the name of your species, right ?”

“ It is. Why dost thou ask with such ludicrous intonation ?”

“ You’re a desperate case, aren’t you ? Wyrm is the name of your whole species, then it can’t be your name, a name is supposed to be a word just for you !”

“ Grimm named creature, dost thou see any other wyrm besides the wyrm in front of thee?”

“ No, but …”

“ Hast thou seen any other wyrm before ?”

“ No .”

“ Then the name of the wyrm is wyrm, for thou knowest no other with such name.”

“ I think I’ll just give up …”

“ Renounce, Grimm, renounce ! Proven is thy mistake !”

It had been like this the few other times he went to the mountain, during those few strange days in which he could come just to talk, because he found it amusing, because the creature, even if it would never admit it, sounded so excited when he came to its lair, and so disappointed when he put an end to their talks.

“ What about all these things you have in here ?

“ treasures, Grimm, and well guarded. Ill advised would it be for thee to touch .”

“ Don’t worry, I wont touch your things. I just wondered where you got all these.”

“ In many places, those where obtained. Taken, they were, as bearers of memories, for by their appearance the wyrm was struck.”

“ You just took these because you thought it looked good ?”

“ The wyrm did take. Though their colours are faded now. Mostly the wyrm admires the things it cannot take.”

“ I understand. So you just like looking at beautiful things. That’s not unusual at all. That’s not bad either.”

“ Yet the wyrm hath lost battles, for too long it gazed.”

“ So, you mean you were literally sightseeing during fights ? How is that even possible ?”

“ Many things of wonders carry blades. Slayer did. And fire, too. And banner, and spear with sun on edge. Distracting things, for the wyrm.”

“ I thought at least this one time I could get you, but in fact, I don’t. Did it never occur to you that you should sort priorities ?”

“ Once again, thy short-sightedness thou provest, Grimm. While gazing, the wyrm can do many things.”

“ Like what ?”

“ Flying, Fighting, talking . Even right now doth the wyrm gaze.”

“ You’re weird. There’s nothing to admire in here.”

“ Mistaken thou art once again !”

“ Am I ? Then I dare you to say what you’re admiring right now !”

“ Red. Thine eyes, Grimm, worth gazing, truly.”

Grimm stopped thinking about that conversation. He felt so embarrassed about it, so embarrassed, in fact, that he hid his face under his covers, well aware that he was getting bright red.

On other nights, he thought about the day he found the cavern empty, with nothing left, not an old trinket, not a single feather, this day when the wyrm had just disappeared without warning. It had made this short time feel unreal, like a dream too many times reminisced, that one could no longer separate from imagination. If it weren’t for the fact that they had been freed, for the faint presence of the seal of promise, Grimm would have believed this was indeed just a dream.

And now that they were on the road, that they were roaming free in the world, from show to show, bowing to the cheering crowd, gathering songs and stories, now that time seemed to pass like water in streams, Grimm found himself thinking about it more often.

About the moment the promise would be enacted, the moment he would finally be called.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grimm is right, the wyrm is an absolute disaster !


	6. A pact of heart and gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Godseeker is desperately trying to cross the wastelands.

She made another step, fighting against harsh wind. Her footprint, in one breath erased, wind moved dust around like dunes of sand, slowly covering the corpses of those who died in the wastelands, alone, with no memories of their homes or their destinations, while the tempest filling the immense space above never ceased.

She felt so tired, now, the strain on her mind and her body was so great, now that they were no longer attuned. Her tribe, too, was growing weary, their home felt cold, and her powers could no longer keep the winds from bringing their shattered thoughts out in the wild. 

Godseeker did not understand how the god of storms could have disappeared, the god they had seen dancing so many times in the raging skies, with its great swirls, grey and blue, its voice made of thunder, his powers of lightning and rain. Did it fade away ? Did it die ? Did it leave just on a whim, or was it because of some sin her people had committed, and yet, that she could not comprehend ? They felt so distant, now, so fragile, their mind, a mere drop of water falling into nothingness, lost in this desert she should never have hoped to brave. 

She laughed to herself. So this is how they were going to end up ? The powerful tribe with masks of gold, the neighbours of most powerful gods, the people once attuned, once ascended… They would become like this, too, with no grave, a sad little corpse slowly buried in dust, with no place to return, no epitaph, no name. How strange that things that were once so great could become so little, that the greatest civilisations, trespassers of the boundaries of body and mind, of mortality and soul, could find their end like this, their cries muted by the storm, their elegy lost in the wind .

Above one of the corpses, the remains of what was once a bug of mighty stature, godseeker saw it. A strange, red light, glowing. Those looked like dying embers left after fires extinguished, emitting a warm, enticing glow.

Curious and hopeful, she got closer. The embers light was pulsing regularly, like the heart of a small creature. It looked faint, and yet, it seemed to reflect something that existed beyond, something powerful, though scattered and unfocused. She looked at the dead bug’s expression. Its eyes were shut tight, but its features were distorted in horror and fear. Those feeling, for the corpses of the wasteland, seemed far from unfitting.

With curiosity and awe, godseeker advanced, hands first, to warm herself in the pulsing ember’s glow. However, inadvertently, her thumb brushed it, only very slightly, a touch that was not even real and yet, that was enough.

Suddenly, she was pushed into her own mind, in her real form, inside the ruins of godhome. In front of her, a silhouette cloaked in red was smiling viciously, ensnared in red flames. Just behind it, a strange shape, patched up and scorched, was beating weakly.

“ Who … are you ?”

“ You should look happier upon seeing me, Godseeker ! That is, if it is truly a god you seek.”

“ You ? A god ? But your form ?”

“ Do not mistake my appearance, godseeker, or should I say, godless tribe, for your god has vanished long ago, and you’re fading !”

“ Then, what sort of god are you ?”

“I commend your curiosity ! Take note, because I won’t repeat myself. I am the god of despair, the god of things lost and never found, the god of faded peoples in barren lands, the gods of tears and dreary nights, the god of scarlet flames lurking in the dark, the heart, beating, by your fear made anew. I am the god of nightmares !”

“ God of nightmares. What do you want from us ?”

“ Isn’t more about the things you want from me ? You need a god, right, godlooser, your parasitic tribe that thrives on the power of others, more powerful than they are, if you don’t attune with something, anything by now, you will die !”

Godhome was now tinged with the reddish hues of nightmares, as the heart seemed to beat faster, and the king was sneering in a foreboding way. Godseeker could feel that this was truly a god, even if there was something different about it, something that looked like weakness, and yet, felt dreary and frightening.

“ But your power …”

“ Do not worry about that, little seeker. True, my power, now, is diminished, but I count on your tribe to make it grow again, and maybe, reach its former might. I know the things you can do, the energy you can seep. “

“ What do you want exactly ?”

“ Listen carefully, little seeker. It is a bargain I propose. And I know you’re in no position to refuse.”

“ We’ll listen to you.”

The nightmare king rubbed his hands, as he continued:

“ In our agreement, then , we shall proceed ! Let me begin with your end of the deal. I’ll let you attune with my power for the time being, so that you can cross this wasteland, and search for another god to give you the energy your people needs. You should be aware that without me, you’ll never make it out of this desert alive.”

“ God of nightmares… In exchange for this, what do you ask ?”

“ Let me get to it, impatient creature ! This is the really good part. See, godseeker, the god of nightmare, currently, is but the shadow of his former self. I seek power regained, but most of all, I seek revenge. Revenge upon a being that dared defy the god of nightmare, and stole his slaves. In exchange for my godly essence, you will help me regain my former glory, and you will seek my greatest enemy. I’m sure your tribe may call it a god, too, for its power is great. I cannot wait, to utterly destroy it, to reduce to ashes everything it holds dear in front of its eyes! What a joy! What a delight ! How I long to feed on its nightmares !”

Although Godseeker felt uneasy, hearing about this god’s dark intents, she did not recoil. She knew they had no other choice, and that if she wanted to survive with her people, she had no time to care for precautions or morality.

“ Very well, she said. We accept your conditions, as its seems to benefit us both. Be the new guest of Godhome. For you, it will be erect. 

The pantheon of nightmares.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> Now, all the assets are in place. Let the real game begin !


	7. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with certain death, the wyrm uses its last asset in a desparate attempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written from the wyrm's perspective, it might seem a little confusing on a first read : in here, the wyrm experiences hallucinations, typical wyrm visions, some weird near death experience, so most of the thing that are described in here are not real, or an extremely twisted version of reality.

The wyrm emerged from the clouds in a quick movement, looking at the passage in the mist closing behind it. With this, had it successfully lost them?

It flew farther away above the clouds. From above, it resembled an infinite white sea. This seemed so beautiful, and so empty, the sun shining too bright in the air that was cold and swirling with powerful winds, the infinite white sea in every direction, now that everything around was but immensity, the wyrm’s shadow seemed so small upon the clouds. The sky, too, was so intensely blue, darker than it was from the ground, and even if the sun was shining with so much power, one could still distinguish the faint light of stars.

The wyrm looked behind and saw nothing. Apparently, this had worked, they had failed to cross the clouds, now, the wyrm could lose them for good. It began to fly as quickly as it could in the opposite direction, still higher, high above the white sea.

There was something strange in the air, even if the pursuers where nowhere to be seen, the tension of their fight had not faded. Moreover, this was so reminiscent of this particular image, this single flash in the mist of incoherent visions, blue sky, thousands of spears, and something whistling closer and closer, something that was not the wind …

A sharp pain tore through the wyrm’s body. It saw, now, the black shape, emerging from the sun, plunging towards it so quickly, the emperor bird, with black feathers and sharp claws. He saw them, now, the shadows below the great white sea, getting closer, the emperor bird’s tribe, approaching from every direction.

The wyrm let go of the feather it had stolen and avoided the emperor’s attack. From bellow, he saw his flying people, with their summoned spears, so numerous darting towards it, letting no way of escape.

The wyrm launched itself higher, higher, even if the wind was so strong, and it still felt some of the spears hitting it, even if it was so high, now. The wyrm tried to launch an attack to slow them down, but it only hit a few individuals, and they were now flying decisively under it, preventing it from escaping to any direction, except … higher.

It was getting so cold, now, air scarce and freezing, and the spears, thousands of spears in the blue sky, always following. Another spell of the emperor bird hit it from behind, making the wyrm fall for a few seconds before it resumed its flight.

This was the only way, higher, and all this was so strange, so many spears already launched, so many spears their goal attained… The wyrm could not breathe, it didn’t even know if it was still flying, or if it was just the wind, and the sun … Was it looking at it? Why did it have wings?

The wyrm felt the last spear piercing through its heart, it heard the cry of victory of the emperor, fading away, as it was still falling, or still flying, or just taken away by the winds.

Everything was so strange, now, the sky had the colours of visions, the birds were no longer here, and the great white sea, the sea of clouds now seemed closer.

The sky whirled, time froze, and from the clouds, that had now the shapes of a field of flowers, he saw another wyrm emerge. It was blue, and dashed towards the sky, without stopping. Many others appeared from the clouds, following, flying in great numbers towards the upper limit of the sky, as their shapes transformed and merged, they were taking the appearance of a huge, golden plant that had no beginning and no end, a plant that was scattered in pieces of light by a gush of wind.

The mist of clouds filled its vision. Now, it was truly falling, and the wind was so strong, the inside of the cloud kept taking different shapes that all brought fear, awe and wonder, they opened their wide, bleeding eyes, and the blood seemed to form small vision orbs, even if everything was blurred, the wyrm could no longer tell them apart, reality and hallucinations, the great winged beast that for a few second, followed it in its fall…

With a ray of light and a gush of blood, it was ejected from the cloud, within another tempest, into something that resembled a vast wasteland, traversed by powerful winds, sands and dust. There was something ominous about that desert, the way it obscured even the horizon, even the limit between sky and earth, and still, it was falling, pushed forward by the storm, unable to control its movements.

Then, it appeared, emerging from dust clouds: the shape of an immense dead tree, darting its black boughs against the sky, the tree was so huge, and its outer form, so long dead, with the branches so perfectly black … And between the boughs, they were the eyes, staring, eyes in the shape of changing leaves, with sickening colours, and still, something watching, something behind … There was something terrible and fascinating about the place, its mere presence seemed to trigger more visions than before, with the high black silhouettes rising all around, their many eyes, their crowns of shade…

With a pain greater than before, the wyrm crashed on the ground, just before the immense dead tree, and felt the earth collapse under its weight. The first shock, and then the rubbles achieved to rip open the parts of its body that were left intact by the previous attack.

A large cloud of dust was produced by the fall inside the deep cave, from here, it almost looked like a well, and the sky so far away…

The winds, from here could not be heard.

Everything became silent, everything was dark.

Even if the wyrm had known similar situations before, this was the first time it felt so defeated. The wyrm knew it, this time there were too many wounds and not enough blood, not even enough for its mind or sight to be sustained, this time, truly, it was dying. Never had it felt so powerless, unable to move or even produce a sound, losing the feelings of its own body a little more with each passing second, its consciousness scattered away in incoherent visions and thoughts, still farther apart, still losing …

There was nothing left, no way to escape, above the clouds, under the ground, this was never enough, in every direction, it would never escape the slayer.

This time, there was nothing left, no soul to gather from an unlucky passerby, no magic left for healing spells, just darkness ever growing.

No … The wyrm thought. There is one thing left, only this one tiny thing.

In front of its eyes, the magic of the seal of promise was gleaming with hope, still to be activated.

This was it, this promise made very long ago under a distant mountain, with a strange, tiny creature…

With the little energy it had left, the wyrm broke the seal, letting the space around it resound with a mighty call, letting a thread of white light appear. In this, the wyrm had little hope. Surely, the creature would not be able to come soon enough, and nothing proved it would be able to do anything to help the dying wyrm. It had been so tiny, too, under the great mountain, even when it was willing to help, the creature could only do so much… Maybe it was not even alive anymore. The wyrm had no idea about the lifespan of other beings and had never been able to accurately measure time. But the seal was still here, so maybe …

Even if it looked like a foolish hope, even if it seemed so unlikely, the wyrm did not care. Now, this was more about the memories, about the reassuring light from the thread of promise, with its faint glow, even if it could hardly perceive it, the wyrm did not feel so alone.

Its life was still clutching at this very thin thread, with desperation and hope, with the idea that there was one life on the other side, one that may come, one that may care enough to do one of the rituals that civilizations invented for the dead. The thread was still shining, like a lamp for those who want to sleep but are too afraid of the dark, for those who wait, unknowingly, for day or night, and stare at the glimmer with a surge and hope and life, at this light imbued with the very precious idea that it might no be the end, that maybe, in the future, its eyes would open again.

…

A wave of darkness took over.

This was a state of consciousness that was different from the vision, that was neither sleep nor death, something in between, something marked with change. In this space, the wyrm’s did not have any specific shape, or limit to its being. Its body and its magic seemed undefined, its perceptions too, lacked direction and meaning.

It was moving above something that looked like a cavern’s ground, with lights coming from every direction. The wyrm was casting a myriad of shadows upon the floor, all of which were very different in sizes and shapes. Some looked like bugs, some looked like other creatures that the Wyrm did not recognize, some seemed unreal, other looked monstrous and uncanny.

The wyrm continued its advance, now walking on something that looked like a bridge over a matter that was blacker than ink and emanated bubbles of darkness and foreboding mist. The worst thing about this matter was that is seemed to have consciousness, like a creature, it was glaring at the wyrm, assessing threat, perhaps, ready to strike.

The wyrm noticed two shining white dots over the dark substance. Those looked like eyes staring at it form a distance. These were eyes, indeed, and they belong to a shade like creature with two tall horns that resembled a beetle’s mandibles. It stares at the wyrm for an instant and faded in the dark. Now, they were multiple other creatures like this one, emerging from the black sea before turning into obscure bubbles that merged back with the inky matter. These were numerous, all a little different from one another, but still bearing a striking resemblance in their sizes and shapes. Just looking at them made the wyrm feel afraid and sick, even if it had no idea of what they were.

Then, something different appeared, another shade, but it was far greater in its size and in the power it projected. Its empty white eyes seemed to have an expressing of despair and wrath, as it stared at the wyrm from above.

**_How dare you?_ **

The thing grew more and more menacing, and its darkness seemed to surround the wyrm from every direction.

What could the creature mean? What was its nature? the wyrm wondered, still unable to tell if this was the realm of some higher being, or just its own delirium.

**_How dare you be reborn?_ **

****

Reborn? How could it be? The wyrm was dying, and it had no idea of what this creature was. How could it know the wyrm when they had never met?

**_I prophecy_ **

**_You will be the ruin of this land_ **

**_You will sacrifice your own children to selfish goals_ **

**_You will condemn great minds to deadly slumber_ **

**_You will condemn the innocent to eternal chains_ **

**_You will die, and even in your white sepulcher, you will be a bringer of death._ **

**_Repent!_ **

**_Offer us your death and repent!_ **

**_In never coming back, repent!_ **

**_In dying here with no tomb, repent!_ **

****

On these strange and menacing words, the creature faded in obscurity.

The wyrm did not understand what it meant, or what it was, and yet, it felt frightened by these words. The creature came from somewhere beyond, somewhere the wyrm could not reach or even comprehend, and from its remote domain, it was bringing fear and desperation.

Everything seemed to disappear, even the idea of darkness, even the idea of being something. The only thing left was a sharp pain, coming from place the wyrm could not pinpoint or name, it was feeling it, now, change. Its being was twisting, taken apart and put together again, even the nature of its magic transformed, turning into something incomprehensible. Time could not be measured in any way, as the suffering intensified, and still, it was never long enough to recede, the wyrm’s mind failed to grasp the things that were now happening, even its consciousness felt shattered and unsure.

There was something in front of the wyrm, something very close, and it felt unable to breath, it was drowning in something that was not water, into something that tasted like blood and salt. It was trapped into a whitish, shapeless shell, left to drown into disgusting blood. The wyrm banged its head on the translucent wall, tearing it quite easily, and fell onto a cold, gooey floor, followed by the blood like substance.

Its head hurt so much that is seemed to be splitting in two, and even the little light there was in the strange cavern was enough to burn its eyes, forcing it to squint. The wyrm took a deep breath, and it was so painful that it thought that it was breathing thousands of blades, and that they were tearing its lungs apart.

The wyrm tried to crawl on the ground to exit this horrible cavern that smelled like death and dried blood, aiming toward the light and the direction of a faint wind. Yet, despite its best effort, it failed to make any significant progress. The wyrm realized, now, there was something very wrong with its body, the way it felt was all over the place, and it could not make any sense of its sensations. Something was keeping it from moving correctly, and they were things present alongside its body, things that seemed to follow it even if it moved.

The wyrm looked to its right and saw what it was: Just beside its head, there was the whitish claw of a creature that was just as enormous at the wyrm, it was making erratic movements, but the creature to which it belonged was nowhere in sight. Now, it was more and more worried about what was happening, its whole body was still in pain and it felt so dizzy. The clawed creature was so close, the wyrm felt a surge of aggressivity towards it and bit the creature’s claw as hard as it could, and felt… a sharp pain, in a place where his body was not supposed to be. Did this mean?

The wyrm tried to move the claw as if it were its own, in a kind of experiment, but the limb began to shake uncontrollably to finally scratch its face with violence. The claw was sharp, and the wyrm twisted around to block it under its body.

The whole experience was getting scarier and scarier, as it was clear now that the wyrm’s shape had changed in an unexplainable way, and that it was unable to make sense of what it was. There were limbs. The wyrm had seen many creatures with limbs before, that moved with speed and agility, but it had never thought about how these were supposed to work. With time, maybe, he could figure it out, but now, time seemed extremely lacking. The shapes it was used to see at the end of battles were appearing again, always precise, inserted into its vision in a worryingly realistic way.

The grey knight was here, in front of it, with her flail and her strange helmet that was shaped like a leaf. Albeit menacing, she did not move, nor talk. The other slayers were behind her, waiting. They surrounded the wyrm, waiting for their death to be avenged.

In a last attempt, the wyrm tried to use its wind magic to transport itself out of this dreary place, but the thing that surrounded it was not wind. It was an intense white glow, that dissipated the visions, and yet, failed to help it make any progress. Such magic, the wyrm had never beheld. It did not understand its purpose. However, if this was just light magic, this was completely useless! The wyrm fulminated against this change, wind magic was so much more useful than the ability to produce light like a stupid glowworm! The worst part was that the wyrm had wasted the little soul it had left on this useless spell, and that now, darkness was settling again. Darkness, dizziness, and the horrible feeling that its body was now so disgustingly foreign, that it seemed like a misshapen shell it should discard as quickly as it could …

Suddenly, a very tall, looming silhouette appeared in front of it. The silhouette had the shape of the creature by promise bound, the one claiming to be called “Grimm” and nothing else, but it could not be. Grimm was a tiny creature, one that was not even as tall as one of wyrm’s teeth, but this one. It was huge, towering into the great cavern, as large as trees …

“Wyrm? Is that really you?”

The creature asked in an incredibly loud voice, even if it seemed worried and full of disbelief. However, even if it was louder, it was truly the voice of the creature from long ago. Even if it had changed so much, it was still the same, because it had an aura of something that came from the past and yet, was not here for revenge, because, around them, now the thread of promise was shining with a warm glow.

The wyrm spoke, with a very strange voice that resembled a whisper, a voice so unlike its own:

“Little nightmare, thy form … To such gargantuan proportion it hath swollen!”

Grimm looked at it with utter disbelief for a few seconds, and then burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaiju Grimm ! The one and only gargantuan gentleman ...


	8. Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimm answers the wyrm's call through the seal of promise. However, the things he finds prove very surprising.

“Father . Why are we changing direction suddenly ? You said we should avoid to cross this creepy wasteland !”

The Grimmchild, almost fully grown, now, tilted his head while staring at his father with his wide, pitch black eyes.

“ It’s the call. Finally …”

Grimm seemed excited and a little apprehensive.

“ The call ?”

“Yes, the call I told you about, with the beast under the mountain. It seems that it’s now my turn to fulfill my end of the contract.”

Grimm turned to the rest of the troupe and continued :

“ However, I’m the only one bound by this deal, so none of you are obliged to follow me. This wasteland seems dangerous, and I don’t want to put your lives in danger for no reason !”

His child took a step forward with a resolute expression.

“ I’m coming. These peaceful travels were boring me to death, let’s have a real adventure, for once!”

Grimm smiled with pride and a tinge of worry, seeing his son’s fearless demeanor.

“ Master. I come too. If I don’t I feel you’ll do something stupid.”

“ That’s not very kind of you, Brumm, but as always, your help is appreciated.”

On these words, the three departed towards the wastelands, beginning a dangerous journey.

For any other bug, it would have been very easy to get lost. In fact, if they had tried to cross it in any other circumstance, they would have lost their way, and begun wandering in the storm with no destination, slowly losing their mind in the desert. However, Grimm was well guided: The magic of the seal of promise had uncoiled, and the complicated runes that formed it had morphed into a long, glowing thread that guided him towards his destination. They followed it, walking as fast as they could.

A few years ago, Grimm would never have let his child take part in this risky adventure. Even if he resembled him in every way, he was not nearly as powerful as Grimm. This, too, was a consequence of their liberation from the heart’s grip. Grimm’s race was a unique one, with its unique way of perpetuation. “Burn the father, feed the child”. With the father free from the flames, the child had not inherited Grimm’s power. He was not able to produce any flame, and his eyes had never taken the reddish hues of nightmares. Even if it was the best for him, not to be a slave of the ritual, even if his child knew it too, Grimm perceived that he resented it a little. His son had never been a calm child, and even now that he was a little more reasonable, he kept complaining about having a life that was too peaceful and boring. Hopefully, taking him on this adventure would be a good way to quench his thirst for action, while still being able to look after him and protect him if something unexpected happened.

Grimm could feel that his son was now excited and happy, for him, this probably felt like delving into the mysteries of the past. There was something awfully reminiscent of commonplace legends about this, fulfilling and ancient promise, reuniting with old friends.

Grimm wondered why the wyrm had called. Obviously, it had managed to put itself in another disastrous situation, given the terrain they were now crossing, but Grimm could not imagine what it was. Back then, when they had talked under the mountain, Grimm had figured that the wyrm’s potential for chaos was probably unmatched, and giving the creature’s … unusual behaviour, every situation, even the most unlikely, was possible.

They walked a long way, fighting the dust tempests and harsh winds, this was a tiring journey, especially in this place that was so darkened by clouds of dust and clouds of sand that one could not distinguish night from day. However, they finally found it. The shining thread was going down a deep crater in front of a huge dark form that disappeared above the storm, something like a column, or the trunk on an immense tree. Grimm and his little troupe descended the deep crevice, using labyrinthic tunnels that seemed to traverse the ground in every direction.

These tunnels were inhabited by irritating jumping creatures, the smaller ones were not too much of a preoccupation, but unfortunately, they had cousins larger in size, who almost knocked out Brumm by jumping haphazardly in every direction. Yet, these were not the most problematic denizens of these caves, for they also sheltered an infuriating race of flying pests, “ primal aspids”, according to Brumm, a tribe that triggered his son’s most aggressive instincts.

Finally, they arrived at a greater cave, thankfully free of those unwelcomed dwellers.

“What’s this smell ?” the Grimmchild asked.

Indeed, the cavern emanated a foul smell of blood and rotten flesh. Grimm continued without answering. He felt worried, now, more so than before, he felt that maybe, he was too late, maybe, from the very beginning, there was nothing he could have done, leaving him unable to fulfill his promise.

The sight he beheld upon entering the cavern emphasized his concerns. In front of him laid the body of the wyrm, unmoving and covered in fatal wounds. It seemed that it had even begun to decay.

“Master, I think we come too late.”

Grimm clenched his fist and looked down. The white thread was still here, in his vision, leading to the great corpse.

“Brumm. Do you think that magic disappears with the death of the caster?”

“I don’t know, master. Probably not.”

“But Brumm, how am I to fulfill the promise if it’s already dead? I can’t even know its wish!”

He was interrupted by his son’s voice.

“Father, look: in its mouth …”

A white light had appeared from the mouth of the creature, like a kind of flash, that was already receding.

Grimm advanced with decisive steps towards the creature’s mouth, despite the growing intensity of the smell.

“Master… Will you really?”

“Enter it, Brumm? I don’t think I have a choice.”

“But father, even if there was this light, what do you hope to find in here? Besides, that’s disgusting!”

“Maybe there’s a hint. About my mission. And even if it is disgusting, I’ll just hold my breath.”

Grimm entered, holding his cape on the lower half of his face, while Brumm and Grimmchild looked at him with disbelief. He could see it, now that he had entered, a light was still here, very faint.

He stepped forward, with a mix of curiosity and fear. He could distinguish the shape more easily, now, and… It was moving a little, shaking.

A few more step, and he saw it: in front of him was a bug unlike any other he had seen before. Its body was completely white and emitted a weak glow, it had, apparently six limbs and six wings, if he counted right, given that this creature was twisting in an unnatural position. They were also great horns on its head, that resembled a crown… or more accurately, that resembled the fangs of the wyrm. The proportion of these in regards with the rest of the creature was a very disputable thing.

Now that he was closer, he noticed that it was covered in a bloody, slimy substance, and that it was bleeding from a deep bite bark on its wrist and a scratch on its forehead.

Now, the creature was looking at him with suspicious eyes.

Grimm said:

“Wyrm? Is that really you?”

The creature seemed to think an instant, and said, with a whisper projected in his mind:

“Little nightmare, thy form … To such gargantuan proportion it hath swollen!”

Grimm felt at loss for a few seconds, before bursting out laughing. No doubt was possible, now, this was most definitely the wyrm!

Grimm felt many different emotions at once. He was relieved, and very amused by the direction things were taking. A multitude of questions were accumulating in his head, as he looked at the wyrm’s new form. This, with no shadow of a doubt, was going to be hilarious.

Grimm began to pull the wyrm out of the rotting mouth, which was not an easy task, since it kept struggling clumsily and hissing incoherent complaints, but he finally managed, feeling very satisfied upon seeing Brumm’s and Grimmchild’s bewildered expressions.

With their help, he also managed to clear the creature of the gooey substance and to patch up its injuries, even if it kept wiggling in every direction.

“Now, Wyrm, I know you can do a lot of strange things, but you’ll have to explain me how you pulled this trick!”

“First, Grimm named one, thou shalt thyself explain. What power, what god didst thou and thy tribe meet, to obtain such grand proportions?”

Grimm sighed, as he understood the grueling task he had to accomplish. Making the wyrm understand that it was the one who had shrank down and not the other way around, was not going to be an easy feat. He knew too well how stubborn this creature was. At least, the upside of the whole thing was that Grimm was going to enjoy some good laughs.

From the long conversation that followed, Grimm was about to learn some important information on the whole situation. First, the wyrm had no idea on how it obtained this new form, or the things that had happened after it crashed in this cave. Second, which was very obvious, it had a hard time understanding how its body worked, and was very uncomfortable with its new form, which was going to be a problem if the issue did not resolve itself quickly. The third thing was more worrying, the wyrm thought it had encountered strange being that had messed with its magic, and now, it was not sure that it could control its own spells.

“Hast thou knowledge on the rules of metamorphosis, Grimm named one?”

“No, I never heard about it? And could you stop calling me “Grimm named one”? I’m sure I already told you a hundred times that you can just call me Grimm.”

“Grimm, those rules the Wyrm doth not master. Its magic was not one of transformation. Yet, now, its wind into light was changed. Had it known the rules, from this fact, other transformation the wyrm could have inferred.”

“Why don’t you just try things out to figure out how it has changed?”

“Effects unknown, might, dangerous. By unknown entity the wyrm hath been warned.”

“What do you mean?”

“The dark one hath spoken. The wyrm, it seems, may bring great destruction upon these lands. In magic, is this scourge likely to reside. Thus, about spells, is the wyrm circumspect.”

This was the fact that worried Grimm the most. He too, could feel it. There was something special about this place, and he could understand why the wyrm felt drawn to it. For a creature that had a habit of acting before thinking, such cautiousness was the sign that it could sense that a great danger would arise if it was not careful in its actions. He also wondered if this was really a good idea to trust the things that this “dark one” had said. This could also be a trick or could be part of a design devised by powers he could not grasp or comprehend.

…

They stayed for a few days in a smaller cave that Brumm had arranged so that it was comfortable to stay, far enough from the great cavern were the wyrm’s former body laid. None of them felt any enthusiasm at the idea of living next to a huge decaying carcass and letting the wyrm so close to the rotting form of what it still considered to be its own body did not seem particularly clever.

During this time, they were able to share more conversations. These reminded him of the time under the mountain, but now, it felt as if they were closer, as if, in this, form, they were not so far apart. Of course, the wyrm’s lack of understanding of bug’s customs and most common habits were a great source of amusement for Grimm.

“Wyrm, there’s something that has been bothering me for quite some time, now. Of course, you’re not obligated to answer. What is your gender?”

“Thy inquiry is unclear, Grimm. Rephrase!”

Grimm noticed that Brumm was making himself comfortable in a corner of the cave, ready to enjoy the show.

“Are you male or female? Or neither?”

“The wyrm lacks the power and sheer size of a great mother.”

“So you’re male?”

“Maybe. Why is this of any interest for thou, Grimm? What dost thou seek?”

“It’s just that I don’t like to call you it. It’s not polite.”

“Never thy tongue hath been bothered by conventions such as politeness. Thy goal thou concealeth!”

“It’s just more convenient if you use “he”.”

“Thou canst use the words that thy convenience suit. The wyrm hath no interest in such things.”

They had the time for many talks like this one, now, most of which ended awkwardly, with questions that were never really resolved.

During this period, the wyrm also began to grow accustomed to its new body, and was making steady progress in controlling it (Even if he kept complaining about too many limbs being completely useless, he was also fascinated by the new strange possibilities it offered.)

During this time, Grimm’s son had also begun to visit the caverns around and seemed to really appreciate this new distraction. It was during one of his escapades with Brumm that the wyrm succeeded to stand up for the first time.

“Behold, Grimm! It exclaimed victoriously. To vertical stance the wyrm hath risen! Now it will look down at you, from above!”

As Grimm began to stand up to correct the wyrm’s mistake, the Grimmchild suddenly arrived at the cave, looking out of breath.

“Father, you have to come! I found something great in the caverns below, you should see it, it’s very beautiful!”

Grimm looked quizzically at his child.

“Of course, I’ll come right away! But what is it that you’ve seen?”

“I don’t know what it is, but it looks like some king of great white root! It’s like a very impressive plant!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GrimmTeen illustration has been uploaded !   
> Such heresy ! Character art with no background ! I hope you'll pardon me for this sin !


	9. Pale Gamble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyrm meets Root. Things don't go as planned

Grimm walked slowly through the mossy tunnels, following the fast strides of his son. Even if he was curious, he had to walk very slowly because of the wyrm, who had insisted to come with them, with the excuse that it was, apparently, “ a thing of importance to visit those whose appearance is renown”.

Going through this was strangely reminiscent of the time he had walked under the mountain, at the time, when he was but a few years older than his child. The feeling of awe and wonder upon entering the domain of something powerful, something very ancient that had to do with the deepest forces of the earth … He felt it again. The fear, the fascination. Even their slow pace added a solemn aspect to their advance. Grimm was convinced that these were very rare moments in a being’s life, and that they should be respected, treated with special attention. These were the times in which stories met, in which lives mingled together to create something new, weaving a fabric akin to destiny.

Still, they advanced, as the cave became more and more luxuriant, feeling with strange, odorant flowers and fungi. This beautiful passage opened up to a larger cave that was full of such plants, filled with a smell of flowers, moss, earth and rain. In the center, there was something that was indeed striking by its strange beauty : Many white, shining root were spreading across the cave, coming from the center, where a large plant was seated. A plant ? But if it was, how come that two eyes were staring through them, deep blue, full of power and mysteries ?

Through the cavern, a powerful voice resounded :

“ Wielder of pale might . What makes you think you can thus trespass into my domain ?”

Grimm’s son jumped at the sheer intensity of the voice and stepped closer to his father, who also took a step back. So, this thing was sentient, maybe it was not a good idea to go in here, indeed, it was a very bad idea, this was the territory of a very powerful being, something that could be called a god, and … Grimm realized: letting the wyrm in here was probably the worst idea of all.

His concerns were immediately confirmed by the low growl he heard coming from the wyrm, who was now glaring aggressively at the plant like being. No, this situation was not good at all. Grimm took the hand of his child and began to walk back as discreetly as possible.

“ It was not the wyrm’s intention to enter thy territory, bulbous one. It wouldn’t have, if it was not so ill-protected !”

Grimm felt hopeless about the situation. The wyrm was picking a fight with a being that was so obviously powerful, this was bound to end up in a disaster.

“ Other beings do not need things as crude as barriers, the mere glow of my roots is enough to keep them away. Are you blind, menial one, brainless perhaps, that you are unable to figure out when you enter the influence of a bearer of pale light ? I have seen you, being pushed by the winds like a twig in the tempest, crashing unceremoniously your unsightly form at the border of my domain. Could it be that you think this diminutive shell will preserve you from my wrath ?”

The Wyrm’s growl got louder, his voice, now resembling that of his previous form.

“ Impudent thy words ! Oh so loquacious thy wrath ! Dweller of the earth, could it be that thou art wielder of empty oaths, and not wielder of mighty light ?”

Grimm cursed the wyrm’s susceptibility as he receded a little deeper. He had never agreed in being caught in wildfire because two higher beings had suddenly decided to squabble.

“ I’ll show you the power I wield ! You will regret your foolishness, Wyrm !”

Hundred of white roots made of burning light appeared around the wyrm, forming an intricate figure around him, ready to close. Yet, the wyrm did not move – or it moved, but too late, and one streak of the attack touched him, sending him flying a few feet away.

“ Why don’t you replicate ? The white root exclaimed. I sense you’re a pale being, what are you doing ?”

“ Thy light’s beauty. It hath distracted the wyrm. Well done, but it will not fall again for the same trick !”

The wyrm’s body began to emit a powerful glow, a light so bright that Grimm had to cover his and his son’s eyes, something that engulfed the whole cavern. There was something different about this light, it felt warm and… it made him very aware, of all his thoughts, of everything around him, of the heartbeat of his son, of his thoughts and his own consciousness.

The light faded away, Grimm was able to open his eyes again.

Now, the white root was staring at the wyrm with an expression of surprise and amusement, as he struggled to get up and failed. Grimm noticed that the cloak he had lent him was now stained with blood.

“ What are you trying to do, little wyrm ? Where in this earth have you learned that mind powers were useful in combat ?”

“ What dost thou mean, gleaming one ? The wyrm is a wielder of wind and blades, not a wielder of mind!”

The root tilted her head to the side, her irritation had been replaced by curiosity.

“ How strange, the things you say… Very unusual indeed. If you prove so unique, I might even let you live in spite of your affront.”

“ The wyrm will not yield !”

Another light appeared, weaker than the first. It filled the room with another kind of glow, and suddenly, Grimm felt a wave of thoughts and emotions that were not his own take over his mind.

-Wrath, fear, utter confusion, pain, fight, fight or die, fight if you want to live another day, fight until the end, admiration for something hat was unique, the never seen, how white, how powerful, such certainty, such calm, from earth and root and, how could it gaze upon such majesty when- Why, why, wind, spears, how to fight without dear wind, why-

The wave ceased abruptly, letting Grimm feel dizzy and uncomfortable.

The white lady chuckled, now, she seemed almost mirthful.

“ Good, little wyrm, very good, now I know how you feel. Is it really with this that you hope to win a fight against me ?”

Hundred of eye shaped orbs appeared around her, surrounding her bought with a Vert glow. She seemed threatening, but poised, and regal.

“Green leaves…” the wyrm whispered.

The forms of the roots attack faded into the air of the cavern.

“ You two, behind the chunk of moss, the white root laughed. Come out and help your friend, now you have nothing to fear.”

Grimm appeared from behind the mossy bush and stepped forward. It seemed that the wyrm had been touched quite violently by the higher being’s first attack, and was bleeding from a deep cut in his leg. Grimm thought that his reserve of bandages would soon disappear if the wyrm continued to act in such reckless ways.

“ I understand, now, the root said. This explains your form. So you managed to be reborn. This is a feat you should not waste by issuing challenges to someone like me. How interesting, how refreshing, even.”

“ What dost thou want, wielder of light and leaves ?”

“ Prithee, call me root, or white lady. I was irritated because I felt that another pale being had entered my domain, but now, my feelings towards you are more of interest than of disapproval.”

“Root or White Lady, were the wyrm to leave thy lands, would thy anger be relieved?”

“ Don’t leave so quickly, for once, something come to provide me with entertainment ! Besides, as soon as I saw you in the sky, I knew you would bring me something interesting.”

“Then in what manner dost thou wish to resume our joust ?”

The White lady laughed wholeheartedly.

“ You’ve seen your new powers, little wyrm. With that, how can you hope to seize victory ? Besides, my interest for you has nothing to do with fighting.”

“ Brittle is thy vantage, White Root ! Underestimating your foe is a fatal mistake. A way to vanquish thee the wyrm hath already devised!”

“ Do you really ? Now I’m curious, tell me !”

“ To such trickery the wyrm will not fall ! Its plan, not matter the grace of the shape you take, it will not be revealed. Such artifice may slow it down, but it won’t make it lose its wit !”

The lady laughed again, and looked at Grimm, with an expression of sincere comprehension.

“ Well, well, little wyrm, since you’re so proud of your plan, it would be a shame to prevent you from using it. But just fighting with nothing on the line is no fun. Since you are so adamant about us jousting, let’s make a gamble.”

“ What gamble dost thou propose ?”

“ It will be simple : the winner will be the one who manages to take over the cavern just above us. You will recognize it easily, for it is covered in red bloom. If you win, I will let you stay in these parts as long as you desire, and you will be free to expand your domain. But if victory is mine, you will have to do the one thing I ask.”

The wyrm now looked at the lady with a mix of suspicion and excitement.

“ Thy terms appear fair. The wyrm shall accept the gamble.”

“ Then, I’m looking forward to see your little plan. Even if it won’t help you to win against me.”

“ The deal is sealed. The wyrm hath no reason to loiter in thy den.”

On these words, the wyrm try to stand up and leave somewhat majestically, but immediately lost balance. He would have fallen again if Grimm was not here to help him.

“ Little wyrm, wait .”

The white lady got closer, carried by her roots, and a very thin branch with a light green end advanced towards the wyrm. He did not react, just looking at it as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world, and let he thin root coil around his injured leg. It began to shine with the soft glow of healing magic.

The root uncoiled, leaving a fully healed wound, and retreated towards the pale root. The wyrm stared at her for a few seconds, not uttering a single word. The air felt a little different, it was as if for the tiniest instant, colorful bubbles had filled the cavern, vanishing as swiftly as they had appeared.

Grimm blinked and it was all over.

In fragile silence, they left the White Lady’s home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time, a full illustration. Now I should be redeemed !
> 
> On another note, I will have a lot of work to do in the following weeks so, the updates might get a little slower. It depends on my energy and on the power of specific interests.


	10. Blue cape and red blooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wyrm tries to enact his plan.

From the moment the pale glow had shone trough the cavern, the wyrm had understood. This new light was not like the other lights he had known before: not sun, nor flame, this light was not to burn or destroy, not a maker of swords, nor maker of mourners. This was a light that shone brights upon the obscured minds of those who were lost, of those who were beasts. From the moment he had inadvertently let it shine, he was hearing it, coming from every direction in the caverns, the confused voices, the first thoughts, the fear and fascination of a people that was awakening.

Ill fitted light for a creature such as the wyrm, thought he. Was it destiny ? Something else, perhaps, something that came from very long ago, something that shone bright in the first days of his youth, when he was surrounded with so many minds like his own, when their thoughts were woven together as something mighty and wise, when it was the light that united them, children of the great mother… But now that this past had been erased in fire and blood, what use could the wyrm have for such light ? Now that it was back, the very dear light that always whispered he was not lost, not alone… What use could he have for it ? This was a light that took meaning in the company of others, a light of bond and community, what use could it have for a creature that was by nature so solitary ? This was a light that brought forth the people and pushed away the beasts, yet, how could the wyrm wield it when it was but a savage beast itself ?

He remembered the words of the dark one : “ I prophecy you will be the ruin of this land “.

Was it a sign ? A gift, perhaps ? A way to avoid an awful fate ? Maybe, this could be the way to avoid the ruin the beast might have brought here, to do the opposite, perhaps. But how could it be ? In every place he had visited, the wyrm only had brought fear and dread with him, red on white, blood of teeth, wrath, revenge. The dark one knew this, for sure, maybe it was the one behind all this, the one who stripped him of his destructive powers, letting way for the very old light that had been so long buried deeply in his heart, the very old light he had never truly forgotten, the very sad light he wished he could forget.

How could the wyrm not seize this opportunity to bring something other than destruction? Yet, how could he, knowing that it may as well burn just by touching his hands, like so many other things that had been fragile and beautiful, things that had been destroyed in one breath?

However, even if it seemed so unlikely, so ridiculous, he had to know.

Resolutely, he walked towards the nearest signs of new minds emerging from the dark. Grimm followed behind him, with a strange look on his face that the wyrm failed to understand.

“ What are you doing, now ? What was this plan you were talking about ?”

The wyrm didn’t answer, too deeply absorbed in the listening of the thoughts. They were closer, now, and in great quantity, on the other side of the cave.

“ I hope you don’t want me to fulfill my promise by following along in all these stupid things you keep doing. I you keep doing things this way, I’m off !”

He slowed down a little, trying to understand the source of Grimm’s complaints.

Grimm continued :

“ If you just want to mess around with your new friend, doing weird competitions, and what not, I’ll be on my way, I can’t see why I should still tag along, except for this seal of yours !”

The wyrm stopped right in his tracks. Grimm wanted to leave. He had forgotten to erase the seal of promise when he had saved him. No wonder he wanted to leave, he had been called by obligation, because of a pact they made long ago, no he had to be freed.

“ Accept the wyrm’s apology, Grimm, for it hath proved forgetful.”

The seal of promise began to shine around them, fragile thread, now, easy to break. The wyrm rose one claw, and-

“ Wait ! don’t !”

Grimm caught his hand between his own, preventing him from tearing the delicate spell.

“ Why ? Thou hast saved the wyrm’s life. Thy duty is fulfilled. Why keep it, when it bothers thee so ?”

“ No, not at all, in fact, I like it, it’s … pretty.”

Behind them, the young Grimm sighed with annoyance.

“ Yet, thou hast expressed-“

“I didn’t mean it that way, I was just a little pissed, that’s all.”

Teen Grimm scoffed and took the opposite direction, saying “ I’m going to find Brumm, dad, you’re too embarrassing !”

Grimm did not have time to reprimand his child, as he quickly disappeared behind a tall rock. He sighed :

“ These youths !”

The wyrm tried to make sense of Grimm’s strange behaviour and looked at him quizzically. Maybe this was because of his child, Grimm probably thought that him picking a fight with the white lady would put is child in danger. That made sense. Besides, Grimm loved his child deeply, even back then, when he braved the fierce blizzard, it was for his child’s sake.

“ The wyrm understands. Thy spawn shall not be further endangered by its deeds.”

Now, Grimm’s face was even stranger. Truly, the little nightmare could contortion his features in the most surprising ways.

Grimm laughed a little and sighed.

“ I’m not angry anymore, and I won’t leave you like that. Who knows what disaster it will cause if I stop watching you ! And please, don’t break that spell, I like it the way it is.”

The wyrm scowled a little, hearing Grimm’s poor opinion of his actions, and continued his walk. He could hear them clearly, now, just behind that rock, they were gathering. If he could meet them, if they could communicate …

Slowly, they climbed the rock, and finally, they appeared. A crowd of bugs – fifty of them, perhaps, maybe more. They were staring at him with an expression of awe and admiration, their minds brimming with new thoughts and inquiry.

A crowd, looking …

Suddenly, the wyrm felt sick in the pit of his stomach, the images kept going, crowd, a crowd looking at him, they had to fear, no doubt, like they always had, and if they feared … Crowd, torches, spears, cries of despair and war, eyes, like these very eyes, full of anticipation, full of terror. It felt like touching it, the hope of being something different, it was blooming, like this young life near the brook, the maiden with her blue cape, surrounded with butterflies, it was new and innocent, like her eyes that were full of fear, like their scattered thoughts, because she was destroyed so carelessly… They could be destroyed so easily, too.

…

Grimm saw the wyrm freezing before the crowd. His eyes looked empty, and his expression was a mix of fear and regret. He was just staring, unable to do a single thing, while the first questions emerged from the troop of bugs in front of them. This was not a good sign at all. Grimm slowly put his hand on the wyrm’s shoulder and whispered, so the crowd could not hear.

“ Wyrm, are you okay ? We can go back if you want.”

The wyrm nodded, it seemed, a little too quickly, and Grimm helped him get a good distance away from the crowd. When they were far enough, in a tunnel that was not easy to find, they sat down on the moss.

“ Sorry, the Wyrm, I … it cannot.”

“ Answer me, what does it all mean, why were they all staring at you like that ? It has to be because of the light, right ?”

The wyrm nodded.

“ Light, calling minds forth from obscurity. They recognized.”

“ Isn’t it a good thing, then ? now, they can be our allies .”

“ No. Not yet. The wyrm’s spirit fails. Too similar, too similar to their people.”

“ The people of whom ?”

“ Slayer’s.”

Grimm stopped to think for a moment. This made sense, now.

“ But what about your plan ?”

“ The plan involved them. Power of mind is mighty with allies in one’s reach. The wyrm tried to seek their help, but …”

“ It was not as easy to do as it was to say, I guess.”

“ Indeed.”

The wyrm stopped a second to think and said.

“ Though, now, wyrm’s plan hath evolved. With thy aid, it could be enacted. The wyrm presumes from memories of thy sayings that thou art an entertainer. Maker of wonders, pleaser of crowds. This much, the wyrm cannot do.”

“ Well, the things you say are true, but what do you want me to do, then ?”

“ A diversion we will create. By thy words, let this crowd in her domain entice. By such unwelcomed visit occupied, she will fail to notice our taking over the cave of red blooms.”

Grimm thought a little about the idea.

“ I’m not sure if it’s a right thing to do. To take people along in this plan, when they had nothing to do with it… It’s not very fair.”

“ By exchange is fairness made. From wyrm light is their mind acquired, as a consequence, by their action will they repay.”

“ Even when you phrase it this way, it stills seems wrong to me.”

“One can take, hath one given.”

Grimm scratched his head a little and finally said:

“ As long as you don’t intend to turn these poor guys into an army, I guess It could work. Besides, I confess I find your idea quite entertaining. Let’s do it, then !”

On these words, Grimm stood up and got back to the crowd of confused bugs. He had always liked being watched by an assembly, being in the center of the stage. Even when he was a small, unsufferable winged child spitting little flames, he kept throwing tantrums just to be the center of everyone’s attention.

Even if he knew it was wrong, it felt very satisfying to see the bugs looking at him with such fascination, and being so easily seduced by his words. After the frustrating conversations he had had with the wyrm, it felt so good to have people be sensitive to is smooth talking.

Of course, with ruse and wit, he easily convinced them to invade the white lady’s domain, by explaining that a god was dwelling in there, and that she could do miracles and grant all their wishes. He showed them the way before joining the wyrm, who was ready to take over the territory stated in the gamble.

With the plan in action, everything seemed very easy. A little too easy, perhaps, as it appeared that the white lady had not done anything to make their way towards the goal more difficult.

The wyrm walked confidently and finally entered the cavern of the red blooms, with an expression of triumph.

Then, he stopped right in his track. In the center of the cavern, looking at them with an air of mischievous glee, was the white lady. Her roots had spread all over the cavern, claiming it as her own territory.

“ Oh, little wyrm. It appears you’ve lost the bet !”

“ How canst thou be up here, the wyrm exclaimed, and yet, uprooted thou art not !”

The white lady chuckled again.

“ You greatly underestimate my mobility. You know, I can manifest myself anywhere I want in my domain.”

The wyrm scowled.

“ How didst thou avoid our diversion ?”

“ These poor creatures ? As soon as I saw them coming, I saw right through your plan. How evil, little wyrm, to use the poor minds you’ve awaken for such laughable purposes !”

At that moment, Grimm could not control himself any longer, and burst out laughing too.

“ Grimm ! By thy hilarity is thy betrayal exposed !”

“ No, I did nothing wrong, Grimm exclaimed, trying to catch his breath. This is just too funny !”

The pale root laughed to, and said :

“ You have to face reality, little wyrm: this is your loss, and you know what it means !”

“ Very good, pale wielder. Though it doubts thy honesty in the bet, the wyrm is no cheater, and it will not take fright facing thy conditions !”

The white lady beamed, and said :

“ So you know that you will have to do the one thing I say .”

“ Indeed.”

“ Come closer, then, and I will tell you.”

The wyrm stepped closer, and he seemed to be a little too trusting, Grimm thought with the same pinch of irritation he had felt the last time too.

When the wyrm was but a pair of feet away from the white root, he said:

“ Say it, then. State thy demand.”

The white lady leaned very deeply until her face was just in front of his, and soughed :

“ From now on, little wyrm, whatever you do, you will do it with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Grimmteen, forced to face the cringe !
> 
> ( Now my note from the previous chapter looks stupid because of the double update...)


	11. Kingdom of past joys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimm reminisces about the days before the kingdom

Grimm leaned on the balcony, contemplating the impressive city that filled the great cave. When admiring this architecture, the many inhabitants who came and went, he could not help but meditate on how far they had gotten. If he was able to go back in time and tell his younger self what was about to happen, he would never have believed it.

Back then, doing all these things, building a kingdom, it seemed completely impossible. Even if they were two higher beings in this group, they were but a ragtag troupe who knew nothing about lands, peoples and politics.

Even if he felt admiration for all the things they had accomplished, Grimm could not help but think about this time with fondness and melancholy. These times looked innocent, they looked free, none of them had to worry about so many things, so many duties.

He remembered the way they had laughed in the green caverns, the ludicrous bets they had taken, when the lady was so full of mirth, when the wyrm understood so little about others, always making pretexts for good laughs. Grimm realized he regretted it, a part of him wanted to go back to this simpler time, when they could spend all their time together, being scolded by Brumm, having fun at his son’s expanse …

How he reminisced it delightfully, the way they awkwardly stumbled around their feelings, how they indulged each other’s shenanigans, how they felt frequently embarrassed about the tiniest things.

He chuckled a little, basking in the warm glow of dear memories.

“ Grimm ! Thy expertise is demanded !”

“ What do you need my expertise for ?”

This had happened in the cave in which they had settled, when they were still unsure about their plans, when the wyrm had no idea of what a kingdom was. He remembered seeing him pointing at a cauldron with a blackened spoon, with an air of triumph ( and the said cauldron was emitting ominous emanations ).

“ The wyrm hath heard that the consumption of cooked food instead of raw meat was the most manifest sign of civilization. This is also what Brumm affirms, so it must be true !”

“And what does it have to do with your menacing cauldron ?”

“ Forgetful Grimm ! I shall refresh thy memory ! Have we not stated that helping the bugs of this place to become a civilization was an admirable goal ?”

“ Yeah, but this still doesn’t explain your mixture.”

“ Cooked food is the gateway to civilization ! Henceforth hath the wyrm confected a dish that shall help us reach our goal. Thus is thy expertise needed, to assess the civilizing power of this soup !”

Grimm chuckled, remembering the dread he had felt then, as the wyrm was handing him the spoon, with a somewhat hopeful expression.

He also remembered the taste. This one trauma would haunt him forever.

This was an indescribable mixture that had lost all semblance of edibility ( apparently, the wyrm had taken the idea of “ cooked food” a little too literally and had assumed something had to be completely burnt to be considered “cooked”). The worst thing of all was that Brumm, the vicious mastermind of this farce, for sure, had also introduced the wyrm to the notion of seasoning, leading to the most disgusting result. With what emphasis had he spit the horrid mixture back into the nightmarish cauldron, where it belonged !

“ What on earth have you put in this ?”

“ One aspid, with mushrooms and moss, as well as a variety of minerals, for the taste. So, I assume by your expression that this mixture is insufficient for its purpose.”

“ Well, it depends, if you intend to deprive all the bugs of the mind your light has given them, this might actually work. I dare even say that if one living being consumed this terrible potion, they would lose all sense for the rest of their life ! “

The wyrm had considered the mixture for a few second with a look of distrust, and exclaimed :

“ Then this creation shall be banished ! Begone, mephitic result of vile alchemy !”

Grimm had laughed so wholeheartedly at the sight of the wyrm insulting his own creation. Even now, when he thought about it, he could not help but smile.

He also remembered the little shows the wyrm had organized with the help of the lady, when he had understood that Grimm missed the feeling of the stage. The way they had watched him perform with Brumm and his child, the look of wonder in their eyes, seeing something like dance and music. This had made him so happy, especially the first time, when the performance had made the wyrm gaze with wonder, and this had reminded him of a child that was seeing a show for the first time in his life. He remembered the stories he would tell, playing the different characters, with a moving décor of shadows and flames, and how they talked about it, later, around a fire.

“ What a delightful play, the white lady would say , with action and love and tragedy. I commend you three on your interpretations, even Brumm, who is usually so stoic !”

“ An impressive performance, thou hast delivered, a shame the characters involved acted with so little reason. Why would they chose to die together, when they could have easily saved one of them ? Their instinct of preservation is lacking.”

The white root laughed and her light shone brightly in front of them.

“ Poor wyrm, you don’t understand a thing ! They did it because they were in love !”

“Ha. How idiotic to give up one’s life for such fictitious beliefs !”

Grimm had leaned closer, and exclaimed, with a false expression of shock :

“ Oh no, wyrm, don’t tell me you think love isn’t real !”

“ Of course it is not. Absurd fallacy invented by senile poets and uninspired bards to excuse the lack of sense in their stories.”

“ How can you believe such a thing !”, the root exclaimed, with a falsely desperate intonation.

“ The worm doth not believe. The wyrm knows ! By sound reasoning, I can even prove that I am right !”

“ But wyrm, Grimm continued, everyone can feel love, in one way or another. How can you say it doesn’t exist when it has been felt by so many !”

“ Vain sophistry ! Love is like taste and sight, like colours, it is a name given to things one can only experience by oneself. Like feeling or sensation, it is the result of one’s own mind. Stating that such things can be shared, or worse, reciprocated, this is pure folly.”

Then, the root had said, in her very soft voice :

“ And yet I can sense your opinion on the matter will change soon.”

“ Hast thou prescience, Root ?”

“ Not at all, she laughed. No need of foresight to predict such a thing !”

The white lady had not been wrong in her predictions. Over the time they shared, they had grown closer, their feelings had become clearer, too, at least for him. As for the lady, now that he was thinking about it, it was quite clear that she had been aware of it very early on. For this, he admired her. She was bold and unapologetic, she understood her own needs, her own feelings with precision and experience, and she always found the words to express them.

Grimm could not begrudge her for making the first move, it was his own fault, after all, because he was not brave enough, because he kept lying to himself, thinking that with this many hints, the wyrm would understand. Of course he wouldn’t, he had no idea about the whole thing and was completely unable to understand how relationships worked. It would be unfair to push the blame on him.

It was also his own fault, for thinking that the white lady wouldn’t let him say it, for assuming that they could not share the things they had, whereas, from very beginning, she had been so open about it.

When he remembered them, now, these moments seemed so fleeting and fragile, their hesitation, their shyness, all of it seemed so comforting. All these instants he kept as fond memories, everything, the smallest gestures, silences, they floated around him like sweet, golden marbles, like the naïve shapes of dandelions and gingerbread stars, because it had been so undefined and so true, because it had seemed right and it didn’t even need a name, because it was merging so many different bonds, akin to family, to friendship, to mates, and because all these could be called love…

The lady could understand so much, only with her eyes, she could so through all pretense, decipher the words one didn’t dare to say. The wyrm understood so little, unable to tell the difference between things that were beautiful and thing that he held dear, and yet, he had not shied away, he had been fair, he had been able to tell that it was right and that such feelings were not to blame.

Now that he was older, Grimm could understand it more easily, the way the wyrm had looked at the blue lake, the way he had looked at him, this day, and sometimes, when he regretted skies and winds…

Grimm truly regrated this time.

Even if he always knew that these moments would not last forever, that their uncertainty and their freedom would take the shape of something more resolute, he could not help but rejoice at the thought of these times.

Even if nothing bad had happened, things had changed, now. They had grown more reasonable, more concerned. The lady laughed less often, and the wyrm had lost most of his clueless demeanor that Grimm had found so endearing. In order to be able to better communicate with his people, he had changed his old fashioned, inadequate speech patterns for something that was more in line with the common language of bugs. It struck him, then. Even if his feelings for him had not changed, he regretted the wyrm from before, in fact, he missed him awfully, his wyrm, the one that was irritable and awkward, the wyrm that was completely clueless about most things and kept pretending that he had great knowledge, the way he would boast about the most unimportant successes… How he longed to see again these sides of him, how he missed their awkward talks that barely made sense !

Leaning over the balcony, he looked at he garden below. His son was sparring with a young mantis, it looked like they had so much fun. Through skillful swordsmanship and smart tactics, they jumped around, completely absorbed in their dance. Even if the mantises’ tribe was fierce and territorial, they were also fair and noble, and, most of all, they could be reasoned with. Even if they retained full control of their land, and frowned upon any foreign intrusion, they were still welcomed in Hallownest, where their knowledge of crafts and battles were appreciated.

Grimm’s smile faltered a little at the mention of this name. The day they had chosen it, it had made it feel uneasy, in an unexplainable way. Since then, this feeling had never really disappeared.

He continued to look at his son and his mantis friend. Perhaps, for them, this time resembled the bright days he had lost…

Grimm walked back inside the building. The king’s talk with the representants of the moths’ tribe should be over soon. That is, if the meeting was not prolonged because of another problem with Deepnest. This people was the most difficult tribe they had to deal with : not only did they keep claiming parts of other tribe’s territories, they were also completely pig headed and refused any alliance with them, even if would clearly benefit both peoples. Their rulers were inflexible and often thought that their honour depended on their ability to leave a meeting without having made the slightest progress. At least, the old king of Deepnest could make some compromise, but is daughter, Herrah, was a completely different beast. She kept making rude assumption about the pale king’s intentions, and always found a way to prevent any attempt on their part to form cordial relationships with Deepnest.

Besides, Grimm did not like the way she was looking at the wyrm, with eyes full of contempt.

He continued his walk towards the main room. Given the lack of sound in the corridor that led to it, it appeared that the meeting was over.

Slowly, he pushed the door and entered the meeting room. The door let out a loud grating that made his king jump with surprise.

Grimm frowned upon seeing the expression of his friend.

The pale king looked at him, his eyes filled with helplessness.

“ Grimm , he said. Once again, I’ve made a terrible mistake…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you don't mind the timeskip ! Don't worry, some of the things that have happened before will probably be explored in flashbacks. Hell, this whole chapter was Grimm thinking about the past like an old dude !


	12. Kingdom of present worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if the kingdom is flourishing, the pale king still doubts. When a regrettable incident occurs, his confidence is all the more shaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hark ! We enter the zone of tricky characterisation for PK !

The pale king clenched his fist, staring at the empty reunion room. After all this time studying, the experience he had gathered, how could he keep doing such stupid mistakes ?

At first, he was convinced that the tramway was a good idea, the deepest line could be a useful tool to finally come to an agreement with Deepnest, if they could use it too, it would make their connection with the hive easier, and since the bees were the only people on this lands with whom the rulers of Deepnest were not at odds, making the communication between them easier was a risky move, but it would make a good argument to force them into real negotiations.

However, the messenger had arrived, announcing that the workers who were building the line near Deepnest had been killed. This meant two things. Firstly, the authorization to make installations in this part of Deepnest came from a very early treaty they had signed with the old king, when the people of the deep and the weavers still had some curiosity for their new kingdom, and had not yet decided that they should be enemies. The bottle of liquor the pale king had brought as a gift was also a part of the reason why this treaty had been signed in the first place. Now, for the people of Deepnest to suddenly stop respecting the agreement that was signed by their king, this could only mean one thing: the old king was dead, and the new ruler was his daughter, the implacable Herrah. Secondly, and above all else, this meant that some of his people had died because of his decision. He was supposed to protect them, he was supposed to bring prosperity instead of ruin, to foil the dark one’s prophecy… ( some part of him argued: you have to give in order to obtain, to sacrifice, in order to accomplish, you knew this from the very beginning, that this whole adventure was a story of exchange and bargain…) But this time, their death had meant nothing : no new resource or territory, no victory over intruders, just nothing, because of a miscalculation, because he was too optimistic.

If he was wiser, or different, maybe he would never have seized power this way. If he was dishonest, he could have began empty speeches, claiming that this was all a selfless sacrifice for his people, that he never wanted to be king, that all this, he did for duty and duty alone. The pale king had many flaws, but dishonesty was not one of them. He knew that he did all this for himself, for the feeling of power it brought him, a power that was very different from the power of freedom he enjoyed when travelling across the sky, riding the wind, this power was one of greater purpose, one that came along with the idea that he would be worshipped and remembered. They were over, the days when he would be pushed away by civilizations, leaving no trace of his passage, except for destruction and death. Now, he was adored by a people, his own people, so many were pulled in his thrall that he could achieve something greater than he could ever have in this previous form.

This was exhilarating, the taste of the power they had together, the thrill he felt at the idea that even if the ancient gods of this place were fading in time and oblivion, obscured by his power and his light, his reign would always be remembered, it would last longer than all of those gods, and be the source of the greatest civilization that ever was ! This would be Hallownest, the eternal kingdom, the legendary, everlasting land, an land that all the other peoples that had rejected him back then would now consider with eyes full of envy, as if it was the only real civilization upon the earth. He delighted at the thought of their rage, these petty sovereigns, these pitiful knights, when they would learn that the beast they had scorned, the beast they had chased form their lands was now the greatest king of all ! How he would see them bow, humiliate themselves and despair, how they would regret sending their shining knights, when they knew what he was able to do, and even them, the brothers and sisters, the great mother whose lives had been taken so long ago, the memory of whom had vanished from the mind of the livings, their great kingdom abandoned, overgrown with moss and trees… How they would rage seeing that he was the one carrying their might across time, that he, the outcast, the good for nothing, the stupid, feeble one, that he was the one beacon left, shining proudly with their holly light !

However, in order to achieve this, mistakes were a thing he could not afford. If this was truly the first civilization, he had to grant happiness and prosperity to his people. He had to protect them from illness and war, he had to carve its legend with his own four hands, or Hallownest would never be the place he had dreamt of. Now, with time passing, this dream seemed father and farther away, and his mind was beginning to be plagued by doubt, as the visions kept appearing, painting a future that was so different from the bright glory he envisioned…

Letting out one of his former habits, the pale king began to growl with an air of defiance. No matter what the visions said. He could do it, he could change this future. In the past, he had managed to vanquish the powerful god of nightmares, he would not be defeated by fears and hallucinations !

However, even if he kept repeating these words, even if he kept closing and opening his eyes, the shape in front of him did not go away. The pale king knew this was an image from his mind, in the way it looked, in the way it didn’t interact with elements of the décor. But still, it did not disappear, and worst of all, its presence even prevented the king from moving and inch, forced to stare at the vision, this was like some kind of sleep paralysis, even if he was wide awake… And despite knowing this, despite knowing for sure that it was not real, he could not fight the panic that was slowly settling in, his heart raced, his hands were shaking.

In front of him, the hallucination was sitting at the other end of the table, looking at him with a horrible expression of irony. This thing looked like a dreadful version of himself, with torn stumps in the stead of wings, greyish and crazed shell, emanating a feeling of emptiness, as a black mist and obscure orbs surrounded it.

It spoke wryly, with a rasping voice :

“ Let the crown rest heavy upon thy head,

Inept seeker of vain glory,

If such menial loss thy soul scorches so

For what comes next, thou art ill prepared !”

The vision kept staring at him, with this same air of sadistic pleasure, as the king prayed for something, for anything to come and free him from this awake dream.

At once, as if to answer his desperate call, the door opened noisily, and Grimm entered the room. With his appearance, the vision faded away.

“ Grimm, he said, once again, I made a terrible mistake”.

Grimm was looking at him with his eyes full of worry.

“ Dear wyrm, tell me what happened.”

“ The tramway builders … The old king of Deepnest …”

Judging from his expression, Grimm understood immediately what this meant.

“ This is not the only thing, right ? You’re shaking. Is it your problems with visions again ?”

The pale king nodded and said :

“ I should have known better … I knew that the old king of Deepnest was not going to live much longer, and yet, I did not order them to stop and come back. I hoped the project could be finished before his death, I pushed my luck, and… That’s the result. They’re all dead now. I should have listened to Root. This was too much of a risk.”

Grimm sighed, and then got on his knees to match his height. The king spotted a very slight tinge of annoyance in his stance. He knew very well that Grimm was growing tired of all the problems that came with ruling the kingdom, and even if he did his best to be supportive, he often showed signs of minor irritation.

“ I wont tell you that this was none of your fault, or that it was a great idea. But still, you’re not the one who killed them. They’re not dead because of your idea. It’s because of Herrah and her soldiers.”

Grimm pulled him into a tight hug, making the eerie atmosphere of the vision disappear. The king focused of the sensation of the embrace, convincing himself that all this was real. Grimm continued, in a lower voice :

“ Are you sure you can’t do anything about these visions ? Even if you had them before, it was quite rare.”

“ I’m sure. Please, don’t worry about it, most of the time, I can control when it happens.”

“ Most of the time.”

“ I am certain it will not be an inconvenience.”

Grimm got up and looked at him. He seemed a little defeated, a little tired.

“ Grimm… you know I won’t resent you if you stop helping me with all these things. I know it can be overwhelming, and no one is forcing you to do this. If you want to take a break, go travelling like you did before, I will not stop you.”

Grimm thought for an instant. The pale king found it a little saddening, to see him without his theatrical manners, not to hear it so often, now, his mischievous comments, his somewhat exaggerated delivery.

“ I don’t want to go. Not yet, my son has a good friend in here, Brumm too has his own activities, with his instrument crafting, and I find it boring to travel alone. So later, perhaps, when things will have calmed down a little.”

“ Well then …”

“ Now, If you'll excuse me, I going to the garden, to bother my son. You know, sometimes, I think he is ashamed of me !”

“ Why would he be ?”

“ All children are ashamed of their parents !”

On these words, Grimm left the room, making a ample movement with his cape. As soon as he disappeared, the atmosphere got cold again. The room felt larger than before, and incredibly empty.

The pale king headed discreetly towards the construction site of the white palace. He looked forward to its completion: even if he liked the atmosphere of the city of tears, it was way too accessible, and people kept interrupting him in his tasks, complaining about unimportant things that they were completely able to figure out on their own. Besides, living so close to so many people still made him uncomfortable, and he knew that it was a thing he would never be able to change. The simple fact to see people in reunions exhausted him, and he did not dare to think of how awful it could be if he didn’t have alone time between all these tasks.

The construction site was going well: the workers were fast, and even if the king didn’t like the architecture at first, now he found it quite amusing: all these empty spaces and long useless corridors appealed to his imagination, and he often entertained himself by picturing the most absurd defensive protocols that could be put in place in here.

After the visit, the king finally got to his room, and fell unceremoniously on the bed, feeling completely exhausted. Yet, even if he was so tired, he was unable to fall asleep. His mind kept replaying small details of his reunion with the moth leaders. All in all, the result of the meeting had been very positive, the moth tribe, seeing the many advantages it offered, had agreed to follow his rule and join Hallownest, this was a good thing for the kingdom, welcoming more people, expanding its territory … And yet, during the whole meeting, something had felt off. The present they had brought, a shield that was crafted exquisitely, let out a strange glow, and the way they had all looked at his light, when he had let it shine at their demand, they looked so fascinated… But there was nothing wrong with that, wasn’t it ? The moths had been drawn to him for a very long time, they had changed their ways quickly after he had began the founding of Hallownest, this meeting was just the official result of agreements that had been going on for a very long time… There was nothing wrong with them. It was in the nature of moths to feel drawn to light, and there was nothing wrong with the fact that they had wanted to see his wings.

Perhaps this was about the deity they worshipped before. Another beacon of light, if he remembered well, something called “the Radiance”, even if this name was never pronounced by any of them, now. The pale king didn’t really know what the radiance was. He had heard she had something to do with dreams, but that was all. He didn’t even know if she was real, or if she was just a character from an old story. True, in the beginning, he had felt it, another presence, something that was connected with light and sleep, but this was difficult to perceive, as it was vastly outshone by the brightness of the root. Maybe it was just another sign of the will of Unn, Unn too, was connected to dreams, and though she was powerful, her influence had always been discreet and peaceful. Maybe the moths from before had worshipped some emanation of her power…

This was not the thing that bothered him. There was nothing wrong in the fact that the moths had chosen to follow him instead of their old beliefs, it even worked to his advantage. That was not it.

Deep down, the king knew very well what was this thing that bothered him. That was the feeling of power and pride that had surged through him, when he had seen that he was the object of their fascination, it was the greed to become the god of another tribe, it was the fact that from the very beginning, he had let his light shine brighter around the moths, because he felt the urge to draw them to him, to enthrall their people into something greater.

But even then, what was wrong with trying to convince more bugs to follow him ? This was a fair exchange, they would benefit in joining his kingdom, and their submission to his rule was the price of these advantages. This was the rule : give in order to receive. Now he had learned to follow it ( His days as the flying, solitary wyrm had made him learn this the hard way. Nothing good ever came from taking without giving anything in return.)

No, he affirmed in his mind, as if to convince himself. This is fair. They’ve been granted free thoughts, and they can use it freely. Yes, he had enticed them with his light, with promises of peace and glory, so what ? He had not lied to them. They had chosen to follow, the glory to come, that was not a lie … right ?

The pale king sighed, slowly being taken over by his exhaustion. He did not understand how that was possible. Despite his reasoning, despite his efforts and his successes, doubt still seemed to cloud his mind. He could not free himself from the idea that something was amiss, and yet, he could not tell what it could be. Because of this unease, because of this doubt, the weight of every single mistake seemed so much heavier …

This was because of the visions. Because of the dark one’s prophecy.

“ You will be the ruin of this land.”

Why did his voice keep plaguing his mind, when so much time had passed, and not a single word of this so called prophecy had proven true ? He had brought so much to this new people, the land was growing so powerful… Now, the dark one’s words seemed preposterous, and yet … Why did he keep fearing them so ?

Suddenly, a peaceful presence entered the room, filling it with a warm glow that pushed away his worries. Half consciously, he whispered : “dear Root …”.

Her soft voiced lulled him to sleep, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you've probably guess from this chapter, you will be treated to a lot of PK overthinking everything and mostly getting it wrong.


	13. A troubled Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Grimm has a lot of questions about himself and his past.

Young Grimm looked at the two moths with curiosity. In some ways, they resembled him. He wondered if he was himself a kind of moth… Even if they shared their wings and general silhouette, they were still very different. Moths looked so soft and fluffy, while he was more… spiky ? For sure, he was not fluffy at all. And they also had these wide wings, their wings, even if they were not covered in vibrant colours, like those of these beautiful travelers he had met in his childhood, their wings were still painted in different hues of blueish grey and warm brown, forming fascinating patterns. His thin, black wings were nothing like that.

However, the similarities that struck him the most was their customs. According to this old, friendly moth he had talked to, they, too, had an affinity for dreams. Sure, they were not like the dreams his father had told him about, these dark dreams with red, burning essence, their dreams were more peaceful, they were soft and warm like the moth’s fur, and gleaming with a reassuring golden glow.

He wondered if they had a god, too. Young moths worshipped the pale king, like the other bugs in Hallownest, but older ones still talked of a warm sun, even though they did not know much about it.

Sometimes, he thought about having a god of his own, a god for the troupe. It seemed that they had one before, though, at the time, he was but a tiny flying grub, and he didn’t have any memories of it. The only thing he knew about their god were the stories his father and Brumm told him. According to them, it was an evil god, a powerful being that fed on the feelings of dread and despair in others, one that had to be sustained in horrible rituals that included the sacrifice of the father in crimson flames. He wondered how much of it was true. Even if this god was described as harmful and pernicious, young Grimm could not help but feel fascinated by it. He fathomed that the troupe had a greater purpose before, that it was not wandering from place to place just to entertain ignorant villagers, that they had an important mission, something that had to do with forgotten kingdoms, dark truths hidden very deep and adventures. 

Now, he longed for that kind of action. His father often argued that taking part in the building of a kingdom was adventurous enough, and this argument was difficult to deny. Yet, young Grimm could feel it very clearly, that this was not the kind of story he longed for.

He wanted to feel the way his father had felt, when he had climbed the high mountain in the blizzard, with a great mission to accomplish, to live the stories the travelers who came from far away told in the taverns of Dirtmouth. Young Grimm knew that their tales were greatly embellished by their imagination, that the might of their foes was surely exaggerated, that they stressed their own bravery and kept purposely silent about the less legendary aspects of their journeys.

Sometimes, when he was alone in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling that was painted with pretty red stars, he fancied taking on a journey on his own, looking for the origins of the troupe, looking for their old, banished god. There was something very pleasing about the thought. It felt like an act of rebellion, against his father, against the king. What an adventure it would be, following the trace of the banished god of nightmares.

Moreover, this mission resonated with many thing his father had never told him. It had to do with his inability to master the power of flames like his father did, with the fact that he retained so many of his childlike features. His father often commented on how adorable he thought it was, but young Grimm did not like this at all. It felt like a humiliation. Young Grimm hated his pitch-black eyes, he hated his thin, tendril-like wings. He hated the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he could not master the power of flames. This made him feel incomplete, unfinished. This gave him the impression that he would never be able to surpass his father, that everyone around him would forever think of him as a child.

Of course, his father had reassured him. He had told him that he did not need flames to be his own, unique person, that he could surpass him in many other ways. Brumm had gifted him a new nail that had been crafted by one of his friends at the workshop, and his father had even arranged a meeting between him and some mantises to teach him how to wield it more efficiently. Even the Wyrm had tried to help, in his own way, even if it had involved a lot of tactless remarks. He had offered to teach him soul magic, arguing that it looked better that flames anyway. Young Grimm had tried, but soul magic was a difficult art, something that did not come to him naturally. It required the user to focus, and young Grimm’s mind was far too restless for that.

Thus, he stared at the ceiling, musing about the ancient god of nightmares. Maybe, if he could find him, he would finally be complete… Most of the time, after following this train of thoughts, young Grimm thought about his own name. At first, he had not minded sharing the name of his father. Even if it often led to awkward confusions, this name was the proof that he belonged to a troupe, to a family, that he was not alone in the world and that loved ones would protect him if he was in danger. Currently, however, this shared name appeared ominous. It hinted at the fact that two creatures named “Grimm” were not supposed to live at the same time, that, if he wanted to be the real Grimm, the true Grimm, fully grown, complete, with his flames and his ruby eyes, his father had to die. Young Grimm did not wish the death of his father, far from it. He knew that if he was to acquire power and flames through such a sacrifice, he would never be able to forgive himself for it.

Still, the name made him curious. It made him wonder about his own future.

Now that he had met her, it made him wonder about his own family, the family he could create on his own.

Now that he had confessed to her, now that she had accepted, now that they had spent several years together … It made him wonder about his own child.

Her name was Yvtis, from the mantis tribe. She was strong, he had never managed to surpass her skill with spears and nails, she was honest and loyal, brave to the point of recklessness. Even if she was not very smart, she made up for it with her energetic personality, in fact, this lack of brains made her all the more endearing, she outed her thoughts clear and loud, without ever beating around the bush, she was incredibly genuine, she was not afraid of the feelings of others or of her own feelings. She never made grand plans and didn’t have complicated desires. She was also fiercely funny.

When he sparred with her, he never felt bad about his ridiculous wings, he never felt bored either.

Yvtis had lost her parents during a fight, and because of it, she often felt lonely, she wanted to make a family of her own. Even if this wish went against his desires for adventure, young Grimm wanted to help her to fulfill it.

Young Grimm had come to his father’s room that evening. This was an embarrassing question to ask, but he had too. He knew that his father would understand, he knew that there was nothing wrong with him asking this question, this was not too early, this was just a possibility … Hell, his father was younger than he was when his Grimmchild was born ! He knew all this, but he still felt a lump in his throat approaching his father’s door. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he feared the answer. He feared it, unconsciously, on the deepest parts of his being. He was afraid to know. Or rather, he was afraid to see the confirmation of something he already suspected. No. He was afraid to hear from his father this thing he already knew.

The look in his father’s eyes when he asked… His heart sank just a little.

After all, this was to be expected. Child of nightmares, child of flames … But never a child of his own.

As he listened to his father’s voice, his chest felt tighter and tighter.

“ Please, listen to me… Don’t be sad, there’s just no way around it. Look at me my child, as I already told you, you don’t need any of this to be your own person, you don’t need the nightmares, of the flames, or a Grimmchild. If you want to have a family in the future, you’ll find a child that has lost their parents, you know, chosen families can be all the more beautiful. You don’t need all this, you’re perfect as you are right now.”

Why did he feel so sad ? His father’s words were comforting, reassuring, he knew his father was right, he knew that every word he said was true, and yet … Why did it make him feel all the more distressed ?

“ She loves you as you are and I love you too. You miss nothing, and even if you’re different from me, it makes me glad, because I know you can live your own life.”

It was so strange. It was not the realization that made him cry. It was his father’s words, the fact that he was being comforted, the idea that he was fully accepted. The feeling of his father’s sheer love made his tears flow, into a painful form of relief.

As he left, he felt lighter. Is eyes hurt, now, because of the crying, and it still felt like his heart was twisting uncomfortably in his chest. He repeated his father’s words for himself, something that he would do very frequently for the months to come. He would repeat the words, then think about other things, change subjects in conversations, take Yvtis along for adventures across the kingdom, plunge his mind into stories and unceasing activity.

He needed to do this.

He needed it desperately, because the thought was still here, in the back of his mind.

Even with the sound arguments of his father, even with the love of others, it did not disappear.

_Poor faded one, forever without heart, forever without flames, forever without child …_

In his dream, the thoughts repeated. His dreams were different, now.

_Poor empty one, one day, you will find, one day, your true destiny …_

He had a hard time remembering his dreams, his dreams were no longer these peaceful moments basked in golden light …

_Poor flameless child, do no grieve, the torch is soon to be lighted …_

Something kept taunting him, something that was within his heart in one form or another, something was coming.

_Dear child, wait a little longer. He’s coming from far away, far away beyond the wind, with a shining present…_

Time passed, making him more and more uneasy. His thoughts had a tendency to wander, leading him to this idea that refused to disappear. This idea, with each day passing, was growing stronger.

_« Brûle donc, enfant des flammes,_

_Brûle donc ta petite âme_

_Et lorsque soufflera le vent_

_Il sera là devant ta porte_

_Le très vieux roi des feuilles mortes_

_Il dira « suis-moi maintenant. »_

Now, his dreams were taking the red hues of nightmares.

_“Let it burn, child of flames_

_Let burn your little soul,_

_And when the wind will blow_

_He will be here, at your doorstep,_

_The very old king of dead leaves_

_And He will say: “Follow me, now.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the translation of the French poem !
> 
> ( Wrapping up the poem mystery was satisfying !)


	14. Pale Beacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh no! She exclaimed; I had forgotten the brooding Lurien variable! Please, Lurien, can you just … unhear everything I said? I’m sure your telescope will be the most useful tool on this field trip!”
> 
> Saying this, Monomon did not know that ironically, she would be right.

“Lurien … What are you exactly planning to see with this telescope? If you insist on taking it to the crown, it will take forever to go there.”

Lurien looked at Monomon with an expression of disbelief.

“You are the one telling me that I’m taking too much stuff? When you literally make Quirrel carry a whole acid tank?”

Quirrel chuckled at the watcher’s comment, as Monomon, despite her mask, managed to get across a smug expression.

“The acid tank is for both comfort and research purposes, watcher. I’m going up there on an inquiry, not to go sightseeing.”

“Madam, Quirrel tried to interject, you’re not fair, Lurien also comes for research.”

“Poor Lurien, you’re tricking nobody. I know you’re coming just for your paintings and to have fun with this telescope.”

“At least, I’m going to watch something we don’t know about already.”

“Lurien, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but do you know that there’s absolutely nothing you can see from up there with your telescope ? It’s always cloudy because of the storms in the wastelands!”

Lurien shrugged, and replicated:

“I’m sure that we’ll be high enough to see some stars.”

“Monomon, Quirrel said, don’t take his hopes from Lurien, then he will be sad and grumpy!”

“Oh no! She exclaimed; I had forgotten the brooding Lurien variable! Please, Lurien, can you just … unhear everything I said? I’m sure your telescope will be the most useful tool on this field trip!”

Lurien laughed at her antics as they continued their walk towards Hallownest’s crown.

Apparently, Monomon and Quirrel wanted to climb all the way to this post for some archaeological research, something about the unusual statue that had been built here even before the foundation of the kingdom. Their new passion for the former civilisations that dwelled in these lands had stemmed from the discovery of a strange artifact under the palace’s construction site. Monomon had had quite the interesting story about it, she claimed that this kind of multi-layered black egg had been given to her by the king himself, and that he had found it while exploring some deep tunnels somewhere below the ancient basin. Monomon had no reason to lie about this, but still, Lurien was a little circumspect. He couldn’t imagine why the king was wandering around in some deep ancient tunnels that no one had heard about before… Lurien thought a little longer and decided that he was wrong. He could totally imagine why the king would do something like that. Lurien was one of the few officials that actually got along with the pale king, and who knew about his habits. Doing strange things for apparently no reason was completely fitting for their sovereign.

Lurien had decided to join in the expedition because he hoped that the heights of the peak would make it possible to see beyond the sand and dust that was blown around everywhere in the wastelands, and finally be able to look at some stars. He dearly missed them and hoped that despite the less than ideal meteorological conditions of Hallownest, he would finally be able to see them again.

Lurien had always loved the things that shone bright in the darkness. He was a nocturnal creature, and his eye could easily be scorched by the sun’s harsh light. However, the pale light of the stars had always seemed comforting. He used to gaze at them from his little, solitary hut, before his journey. His home, a simple place, very small, but comfortable, was installed on the top of a high tree near the wasteland’s borders. From there, he laid on the roof and counted them, learning their names in a very old book he had discovered in a ruin. One day, as he was reciting the names of constellations, he had noticed it: Far away, in the centre of the wastelands, he saw, the sudden glow, a very bright, very pale star with a light that was gentle and powerful, it shone incredibly bright for a few seconds, and then, it disappeared. Lurien had been fascinated by this glow. The memory of it, its mystery, that was the thing that had guided him through the cruel winds of the waste, that was the thing that had led him to this new, fascinating life. For him, as for many others, he was sure, this had been the call of Hallownest. But most of all, this had been the call of the king. When he saw him for the first time, from very far away, as he passed elusively by a window in the highest building of the capital, he recognised it immediately. The glow that had guided him to this place, the reason why he was here, the reason why he would stay.

As he followed this train of thoughts, the little expedition arrived to Hallownest’s crown. This place had something very solemn about it, something regal and impressive, but it was also peaceful and heart-warming. Lurien took a pause to look at the spell stones that had been expertly disposed there. Their glow was pale and steady, like the king’s magic. Lurien really liked these spells. They were not like the flashy attacks or destructive abilities most wielders of magic bragged about. The king’s magic was not like that, as a wielder of mind and light, Lurien doubted that he was actually able to launch attacks with his own powers. (This would explain the fact that the pale king had quickly learned soul magic, that was probably far more useful in combat than is own powers of mind and light.)

The spells of the crown had nothing to do with soul magic. They shone peacefully, like a gentle lighthouse in the middle of a brash, unforgiving sea, a beacon that could still be perceived by the ones who passed in the vicinity, despite the fog and storms, its soft, enticing call reached the mind as well as it reached the eyes. The crown was one of Lurien’s favourite magical constructs. It shone brightly but it did not hurt his eyes, it spread its peaceful glow like a song around the desert. Lurien liked it because it was beautiful, with the shining runes drawing mesmerising figures on stones, in cryptic lines and arabesques, and above all, he liked it because it was kind, like a hand extended to those who were lost in the wastes, for those who had nowhere to go, it called them to the doors of Hallownest, where they would finally be able to rest.

Of course, the creation of this beacon had not been free of controversy. The white lady had been against it, her main argument being that this light could also be spotted by powerful beings with evil intentions. A rumour had also been spread, unsurprisingly, from the borders of Deepnest, according to which this lighthouse was a tool devised by the king to seduce foreigners into entering Hallownest, in order to make an army of them with the purpose of dominating the local tribes. Lurien could not ignore that this was a mark of the king’s pride, like the other signs at the kingdom’s doors, phrases like “ Hallownest, the eternal kingdom”, “the only civilisation”. However, this was also a mark of his hopes, that one could find glory in creation and peace, instead of destruction, that they could rise by giving happiness even to the tiniest creatures.

“We’re here at last!” Monomon exclaimed, while Quirrel began to install her tank. “This was about time, I feel dry!” The teacher plunged into her tank with a sigh of relief.

Lurien began to install his telescope.

“Ha! he exclaimed triumphantly. I see them! I see the stars! Monomon, you pessimistic liar!”

“Very well, Lurien, you’ve won, you can be happy now, look at your stars and draw as much as you like.”

“I’ll make a sketch of this statue first.”

Monomon turned to Quirrel and said:

“Now, my dear pupil, it’s time to put your scientific spirit on display!”

Quirrel nodded proudly, ready to show his abilities.

“Tell me, the teacher continued, what methodology should we adopt to examine this vestige?”

“This is simple, madam : our main goal is to asses if this edifice belonged to the civilisation that crafted the strange artefact that we’ve named arcane egg. Of course, the evidence given by the observation of this statue will never be enough to prove or disprove this hypothesis, so our goal is to examine it, looking for signs of this civilisation’s script on the stone, as well as other scripts we could recognise from one of Hallownest’s original tribes.”

“Very well, my student. But do not forget, the scientist shall never rush to conclusions, even confronted with seemingly conclusive evidence!”

“Of course, madam. I will not forget you saying: absence of evidence is no evidence of absence.”

Monomon applauded silently with her tentacles, and installed the lumafly balloon, a very practical lighting device for this type of research. She began to take notes as Quirrel approached the statue to examine it more closely. Unfortunately, she could not join her student in the direct investigation, and immediately began to feel bored. Luckily, Lurien was here, and she knew he could offer great distraction.

“Tell me, Lurien, isn’t your telescope a little weird? It is all wobbly and I’m pretty sure some of the pieces used in this are not supposed to enter in the composition of an astronomical lens …”

“So you’ve noticed, Lurien laughed. You’re right, that’s not my usual telescope, it was too big anyways. This is the first telescope I made, not long after I was appointed as the watcher.”

“So you knew how to make these before ?”

“Actually, I didn’t. I found out about it completely by chance. Or, to be more fair, I and the pale king did. This was an exemple of … what do you call it, again ?”

“Serendipity.”

“Ah, yes. So, it was a serendipitous discovery, because we had this meeting, you know, about being the watcher and all, and we had glasses of water.”

“I’m starting to see where this is going!”

“So the discussion was serious at first, but then it drifted, and after half an hour, we were looking at each other through the bottom of a glass. Don’t ask me how we arrived at that point.”

“I wished I was here to see, I bet that was hilarious!”

“And then, there was the epiphany, about the glass’s power to make thing look bigger.”

Monomon was now laughing wholeheartedly, trying – and failing- not to be too loud.

“Don’t say this with such a serious tone, Lurien, this makes things even more funny. Why didn’t you invite me, I wanted to see you guys being all enthusiastic about discovering something that already exists!”

“mock me, teacher, at least, after a little of trial and error, we managed to make this astronomic lens, and it is perfectly functional!”

“It looks broken though.”

“This is the first one I ever made. And I made it with the pale king. Of course, it looks broken! Do you remember that railway prototype?”

Monomon burst out laughing again.

“I remember it all too well. This thing was an abomination!”

“I can’t go against you on that point, it was hideous. But it worked. Admittedly, it worked poorly, but it worked. “

“This was nightmarish! Remember how it worked with pedals?”

“Ho no… I wanted to forget about that part !”

The duo continuer their conversation, laughing while Lurien continued to gaze at the stars. Quirrel had finished his observations. According to him, the investigation would prove difficult, the statue had been worn out by the harsh winds, and no trace of writing or engraving was to be found on its surface.

“Hey, Lurien, Quirrel asked. Do you think you can see if they’re travelers on the wastelands, with your telescope?”

“I don’t know, with all the mist and the storm, I doubt I’ll be able to see anything.”

“I wouldn’t hurt to try!”

“I’ll take a look, then, Lurien said.”

The watcher turned the telescope towards the wasteland’s endless storm of sand and dust. He looked in several directions for a moment, and began to say: “ No, As I thought, I can’t-“ Then, he suddenly stopped, turning his telescope towards a precise point of the waste.

“Actually, there’s something. It’s coming in this direction. But … that’s not a bug. That’s far too big for that.”

“Let me see!”

Monomon peered through the telescope and retreated. Her voice had grown very serious.

“Quirrel, she said, come and look at this.”

On his turned, Quirrel looked through the lens. From slight boredom, his expression changed to fear and urgency.

“My student, Monomon continued. Please go ahead to the palace. We have to warn the king about this as soon as possible.”

Quirrel nodded and began to run towards the heart of the kingdom.

Monomon and Lurien began packing their tools hastily. After seeing that, they did not want to linger in this place.

As they were ready to head back to the caverns, they glanced one last time towards the horizon. It could not be seen with the naked eye, but soon, it would be. It was fast, and it was approaching.

From fare away in the waste, a huge, pitch black, worm like creature was advancing towards the kingdom.

Feeling fearful and worried, Lurien looked at the crow of Hallownest one last time. So the white lady’s worries were justified, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fun before chaos ...
> 
> This is my theory about the purpose of the crown of Hallownest !


	15. Blackwyrm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle of the Blackwyrm takes a bloody turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING  
> This chapter contains graphic violence and gore .

The pale king stood on Hallownest’s crown, waiting. In this short time, plans had been made, everything had been prepared for the arrival of the dark creature. He could make out its shape in the storm, now, as it flew resolutely towards his kingdom. He had suspected it, he had feared it, he had tried to suppress the thought with other possibilities. Yet, seeing the creature’s features, its wild horns, its many eyes, no mistake was possible. No delusion could protect him from the idea, it was real, it was coming, and there was no possibility to avoid it.

This was Blackwyrm.

He would always recognize her sharp fangs and vicious light. He had seen her, burning with the rest of the nest, great swords planted in her shell, tearing through her heart, he had heard her scream in agony and despair, as he was flying away in the dark night. She had survived, then. Then, he was not the only one. He was not alone. This idea filled his heart with unexpected joy, with a very strange kind of hope, and above all, with a great fear, one he had not felt for a very long time, the fear of losing everything, his kingdom, his people, his loved ones…

The king turned back to the troupe in arms behind him. The civilians had been ordered to take refuge into the deeper parts of Hallownest, and all of the troops gathered here were trained fighters, led by the most skilled combatants of all, the five great knights. They were good fighters, no doubt, but they lacked the experience of real battles. The pale King knew that he had to use all the means at disposition to avoid the fight, because most of them would be hesitant, because they would think before striking, they would be overwhelmed by their emotions. Training had hardened their shells, but not their hearts, that were still vulnerable and fragile, like those of the bugs who had never seen real war.

“ My Liege …” one of the knights began . “Are you really sure about this plan ? One of us should replace you…”

This was the gentle Hegemol, the powerful and soft-spoken warrior. The king had always admired the way this massive knight paid attention to small and fragile things, the way he always used his strength to protect the weak creatures, that he would not risk to destroy them because of disregards and carelessness. For the king, the shining eyes of this gentle giant was a mirror of many regrets.

“ Do not worry for me, Hegemol. I am the only one who can do this. I know that this creature will target me first. I know that I can be fast enough for the plan to work. “

Hegemol lowered his head and took a fighting stance, just before the arrival of the beast.

Looking at this army, the pale king felt the irony of the situation. A troop in arms, ready to welcome an immense traveler. Spears, armor, trembling hands. The only thing missing was the sun, shining on the edges of their blades, and they would be a faithful replica of the many crowds he had seen long ago, with their eyes full of fear… He understood them, now. How fierce, how powerful they could get, those who fought to protect something they held dear.

In less than a minute, Blackwyrm would be here. The king used this final instant to look at each fighter, to remember the faces of every single one of them: Hegemol, Isma, Dryya, Ze’mer, Ogrim, the captain of the guards, with his new nail and his cape, the other warrior, with her heavy mass, the lurker, the nondescript fighter with his golden spear, the two mantises, the deadly nailmaster and … Grimmchild? What was he doing here, wasn’t he supposed to help is father preparing in kingdom’s edge? He should not be here, that was too dangerous, he had to do something about it but …

It was too late. The monstrous silhouette of Blackwyrm appeared before them.

The king faced her with a look of determination. This was the most crucial moment of the encounter. These few seconds were about to determine if it was possible to avoid bloodshed. With great effort, he pushed back all his worries, focusing exclusively on her.

“ Blackwyrm ! he projected, carrying the power of his words with mind and blinding light. Stop here at once! State your intentions!”

The creature slowed down, looking at the crowd with an air of derision.

“My, my! Who could hath believed it! “

Her words resonated with hatred and hunger, crafted in voice and mind to hurt like sharp claws.

“ After all this time, it appear thou still liveth ! What a shame, little brother, how horrible thou musts feel, after fleeing like a wretched coward instead of helping us defend the nest, how wonderful that thou hast not put an end to thy pitiful existence!”

“Blackwyrm, he growled. Is it destruction you seek?”

She continued, paying no attention to his words:

“ But I guess ... Die, thou didst ! Even from here, I can smell the stench of thine rotting body. Is it the way thou hast found to cheat death? To become a bug? How pitiful! What an insult to our majestic race, to take a form so vile… How apparent it is, that mother was right about thee.”

Despite his fury building in at Blackwyrm’s provocation, the pale king answered in a poised voice.

“You’re making me repeat myself, Blackwyrm. Tell me what you want. If it is shelter or food, I will give it to you. If you came here to hurt my people- “

“Thy people? So, Thou fanciest thyself a king?”

Her dark body shook with a fit of sinister laughter.

“It appears thou art not grasping the meaning oof mine words, oh so very, very little brother. Let me make myself clear: I would never humiliate myself in accepting a gift from thou and thy tribe of crawlers. Listen very well, tiny fuming scum, excrement of the earth, impotent reject of our race. I did not come here to play thy puny games. I came here following this stupid, pretty light thou hast put up here, I came here to do what wyrms do.”

“ You know I will not let you-“

“ Against me, thou art powerless. I can feel it from here. Thou art weak, thy people are weak too. Thou willt not even put an fight matching mine fancies.”

“ Please, listen, there’s no reason for us to go this far. I do not want to end your life, I’ll give you what you ask and then you can just leave. No rule dictates that one of us has to die.”

Blackwyrm growled with a mix of anger and contempt.

“ Tou willt offer me what I crave ? Truly ? Then let me tell thee what it is, that I desire. First, I want thy life, then I want thy kingdom, I want thy people… Ho, do not look so horrified now, disgusting worm, rampant cur ! Wait until I tell thee what I will do to them…”

The black wyrm continued, her voice resounding with delight as she saw the pale king’s claw clenching on the handle of his nail and his eyes widening with horror.

She continued, enunciating every word slowly, the pain she knew they would cause filling her with pleasure :

“ After I have killed thee, after I have dismembered thee and left thee watching as thy little army is vanquished, I will elect this place to make it my own nest. Then, I will take hold of thy people, I will consume their minds, and I will make them my slaves, like mother did, like all wyrms should do with bugs. The other higher beings who dwelleth in here … they will not be able to do anything against me. This one, with her green, distant soul, she doth not concern me. But the other one, the one whose glow takes the shape of the tree… I will destroy it completely, body and mind, I will consume it and make its power mine… Ho, little brother, thine eyes are so full of rage ! Could it be that this creature thou lovest ? Then I will make sure to defile its shredded corpse with as much pleasure as I will take defiling thine !”

These last words were too much for the king. Unable to hold his rage another second, he launched a barrage of soul nails towards her, so full of spite that he forgot about the plan for one second.

However, by doing this, he was dancing right into her claws, as this reaction was what she had anticipated all along. With a swift movement of her tail, she parried the attack and hit the king, sending him flying at the feet of his army.

Despite the barrier he had managed to put up to diminish the impact, this strike had been enough to stun the king for a few seconds. A few seconds that were enough for Blackwyrm to launch on the army.

The pale king, still trying to regain his senses, felt Dryya lifting him and jumping away from what would have been a disastrous blow. Images flashed in a quick succession : Ogrim launching into a desperate attack, Ze’mer, floating elegantly in the air, ready to strike with her massive nail and … the captain of the guards laying on the ground with his abdomen slashed open and his entrails spilling on the cold stones ( and his eyes were wide open, because he was still alive), the massive warrior with her head smashed on a rock ( her face… it was no longer there.) He saw the warrior with the golden spear, skewered of Blackwyrm’s massive fang…

Images flashed into his mind, an army vanquished, a debacle, a child with a sword in his hand, the knight, the armor shining in the sun – the white banner tinged with blood, a desperate call from the top of a fortress, tears of rage and terror on the cheeks of the red knight, corpses scattered like dead leaves, the grey knight, with her face full of blood, begging for her life, the spears, the eyes under golden helmets, the torches, cries of sorrows- cries of revenge, blood of bug and of other creatures, the innocent with her blue cape impaled on his own fangs, the archer that missed because her fist was shaking with despair and hatred…

With a quick movement of his wings, the pale king rose above the mêlée, now, he was able to see more of it: Blackwyrm raging, many corpses, more than he had thought, Ogrim injured, a young mantis that had lost one of her claws, so many… All this because he had failed to contain his rage, because of his impulsive actions, now, so many had lost their life … All this, he could have avoided. For a few second, he felt powerless, unable to attack, it was as if his will had left him completely, and still, they were dying, and … Grimm’s son was standing here in utter shock, unable to lift his nail, as Blackwyrm launched towards him …

The king sprang back into action. He jumped between the two of them, creating the most powerful magic shield he could, using all the soul he could muster.

“Retreat !” He screamed.

“All of you, retreat ! “

The remnant of the army began to run towards the gates they were supposed to defend. Looking at Dryya, the king shouted the code words intended:

“We have to abandon this way !”

They all ran, taking the injured fighters with them, as the king flew higher, emitting intense light to catch Blackwyrm’s attention.

Hegemol was one of the last one to leave, taking young Grimm by the arm, as he stared at the horrible remnants of the battle.

…

Young Grimm’s eyes filled with tears, as he felt the knight dragging him inside the tunnel. He looked at Yvtis, whose right claw had been ripped off by the monster’s attack.

A wave of disarray surged though him, as he realized his powerlessness. He had come in secret with the army to prove his strength, to follow his beloved, but now, he realized how foolish this was. He had seen the monster kill the fighter that was right next to him, and he had not even been able to move, as his whole body was paralyzed by terror.

Then, he had seen it, the fang that was about to wound Yvtis, but this was too far away, and his legs had refused to carry him. Instinctively, he had raised his hand, trying to summon flames to deflect the creature’s attack, but of course, nothing had happened. He had just stayed there, motionless, unable to do a single thing while the one he loved was being injured. He was so weak, so pitiful…

The only reason why he was still breathing now was because the king had stepped in to save him, wasting precious amounts of soul that he was supposed to preserve to be able to enact the plan…

Now that the battle had passed, he realized it. He never should have come. He was inept and weak, he was just a burden for the more skilled fighters. He had just been able to stand there, paralyzed by fear. Weak, so weak, without flames, without courage, unfit for battle or adventure, he could not help anyone, save anyone, he was…

Big tears had now begun to flow down his chin, as his frame was shaken by quiet sobs. And Yvtis, the beautiful and strong Yvtis, Yvtis with her tightly bandaged arm was looking at him so lovingly…

“ I’m so glad, she whispered. I’m so glad you’re alive and uninjured !”

These words, bright, full of love, traversed young Grimm’s heart more painfully than a spear could ever have. Yvtis had been injured, and now, she was the one worrying for him, she did not resent him for being so weak, even when she had lost so much…

As he looked at her, the realization hit him with unprecedented violence. He had to harness power. He had to become stronger, or he would never be able to look at her in the eyes again. He had to become stronger so after this, he could live.

This was a necessity. He had to seize might as soon as he could.

No matter the means necessary.

…

Blackwyrm purred with satisfaction. With his six wings spread out majestically in the sky, the pale king was looking at her with eyes full of hatred and cruelty.

Now, this was the kind of look she wanted to see.

The pale king whispered between his teeth:

“Sister … Come at me !”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you probably guessed from the hints, in this universe, the way Wyrms normally function is fucked up.


	16. Lord of Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pale king enacts his plan to triumph over Blackwyrm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for physical and psychological violence.  
> There is one reference to a famous Shakespeare's play in this chapter, will you find it ?  
> There is also another reference, but far less serious.

The pale king felt his heart being overtaken by hatred as he surged into the sky, surrounded by rays of blinding light.

How dared she? How dared she hurt his people, how dared she mar his kingdom with her vile presence and poisoned words? How dared she spill their blood on his own land, how dared she … Wanting to rob him of everything he had, to destroy it, to debase it, to wish to transform his beautiful kingdom into a disgusting wyrm hive, home of cruel denizens and mindless slaves?

He could hear his own rage echoing through his mind with a low, thundering growl, it repeated “ Mine ! Mine !”

A cruel smile flashed on his face as he imagined the plan being finally enacted. How foolish, to try to compromise with such a creature! What naivety, to hope that she would come as a tired wanderer, compelled by curiosity and hunger. How childishly hopeful he had been, to sympathize with her at first, to desire her survival, to hope that maybe, she could be reasoned and join him, that he would not be the only one left… How forgetful, how stupid, to ignore the very nature of his own race.

The king scowled. Once again, he had let his feelings get in the way. First, he had let his hopes interfere with the plan, because she reminded him so much of himself, because he thought she was just tired, just hungry, just bitter that she had lost her home. Then, he had let his anger compromise their strategy, and because of that, the situation had slipped out of control and many had been injured or killed.

As he was rising in the sky, launching soul nails at his enraged sister, the pale king made a pledge to himself. He sealed the oath in his mind, calling the dead bodies of his subjects as witnesses. Never again. Never again would he let his feelings interfere with his plans, never again would he put the needs of his heart before the survival of his people.

With solemn thoughts, the king formed this pact with himself.

A pact in blood and pains.

In mind, the oath was sealed.

Now, with this resolution taken, his heart was free.

“ Sister … Come at me !”

Blackwyrm howled with extasy and launched herself in his direction.

“ At last, little brother, at last dost thou decide to indulge my longing for a great fight !”

“ Stop speaking ! he hissed. Words are wasted on a beast such as yourself ! Roar and wriggle in the dust as you should !”

Another soul nail was launched, barely scaping Blackwyrm’s hardened shell. She began to pursue him higher and higher. Now, from this height, he could see it, the rising sun, showing the direction of the east.

He heard his sister’s vicious laughter, as she followed him with worrying speed.

“My poor little brother, how dost thou hope to beat me? So weak thy spells, so fragile thy form, so petty thy screams, so piffling thy nail!”

The pale king continued to fly towards the east as fast as he could, but never managed to put a safe distance between his sister and him. Even with the aid of magic, he was too light, for too strong a wind, his wings had too much windage, and the harsh gusts kept pushing him to and fro, making the maneuver extremely difficult. Behind him, Blackwyrm growled:

“Thou dost realize, then! Against me, thou canst naught! Thy stronger spells do not even scratch me, while with the slightest touch of my fangs, thou art vanquished!”

“You will never be able to touch me! You are unprecise, you are slow!”

“Get thee I will, eventually! I will pursue! Until thy magic fails thee! Until the wind pushed thee right into my mouth!”

The king tried to speed up. Now, she was determined to pursue him anywhere, she would not stop until he was dead.

His mouth twisted into a vicious smile.

Perfect.

Now, she was the one playing in his hands.

He kept flying, as fast as he could, while she was following a little too closely.

“Thou art fleeing! She exclaimed. Thou art a cowardly wretch, as thou wert back then!”

Very good. He thought, very good, all according to plan.

Then, he spotted it: just below him was the deep crater caused by the fall of his former body. The entrance of the kingdom’s edge. Seeing that his destination was nigh, he took a sharp turn and plunged towards the chasm, using a soul spell called desolate dive. However, this quick moment of relief, upon seeing the end of this trial, this half second in which he stopped scrutinizing Blackwyrm’s movements, this was enough for one of her fangs to brush against him, tearing apart two of his wings.

As he plunged down, his body overtaken by pain, he heard her growls of delight a few feet away behind him. The dive was fast, but not fast enough, as she seemed to keep getting closer. Even more alarmingly, he could feel his magic reaching its limits. He was already using it at the expanse of his own body, feeling his own blood being turned into energy.

“ Even in these tunnels, thou wilt not escape !” Blackwyrm screeched, if she got even one or two feet closer, she would be able to rip him apart.

Then, the king saw it : in front of him, the tunnel that had been prepared. The one tunnel that was large enough for Blackwyrm to fit. Using the last remnants of his magic, he launched into it, feeling his sister following very close behind him, laughing triumphantly.

“ Oh so little brother, I smell thy blood ! I smell thy defeat !”

The king saw it now, the end of the cavern. For his enemy, just a dead end, cementing her victory, but for him, that was it, finally: then end.

Time seemed to expand, those few seconds felt like whole minutes. His sister, so close, ready to tear him apart. Red, reassuring light, Grimm’s eyes meeting his own, Grimm’s eyes wide open and full of worry, so reminiscent of the way they had shone so long ago, under the mountain, Grimm’s hand on the mechanism, Brumm, just behind him, the other engineers, ready for what was to come next …

Grimm pulled the lever. The mechanism activated, with an ominous, metallic echo that filled the caverns. The king saw the emotions flashing in the eyes of his sister: Surprise, incomprehension, fear, rage …

The unforgiving trap closed on her body. Hundreds of huge, enchanted chains, crafted over the years to prevent the attacks of gigantic foes, hundreds of chains in the dark pit… The chains pierced through her body from every direction, trapping her in place, as other chains were activated, tearing through her heart, through every part of her body, before being locked completely.

Blackwyrm let out a wail of frustration and intense pain. She tried to move despite the chains, but they were too strong, and the slightest movement put her through horrible agony. In front of her, the king stood up slowly, taking a regal stance, despite his scorched wings and bloodstained robes.

“Traitor ! She growled menacingly. How darest thou! Such a trap! Ignominious, shameful, pitiful treachery! How this vile subterfuge thy honour would tarnish, had thou an honour to defile.”

The king looked at Blackwyrm with an expression of cruel scorn. The surge of power he felt though his veins had made him forget about his wounds, about the people looking at him. He was overwhelmed by the desire to take revenge, to make her suffer for what she had done, to shame her until she yielded and begged for mercy, and then… He felt his ancient urges taking over him, letting his speech go back to its original form, his mind emitting a terrifying growl.

“ Sister … he hissed. Now I grasp the full measure of thy stupidity …”

The growl in his mind did not stop, chanting in a sinister tone: Tear her apart, body and mind, take it, revenge, revenge for what she has destroyed, revenge for taking what is yours, see her suffer more and more, drag her name through the mud, humiliate, debase, make her pay !

The vanquished sister snarled, her voice full of rage, and, to his greatest delight, full of fear.

“ How darest thou! Vilest spawn of betrayal and infamy! Thou shameful stain upon the earth! Thou cowardly, froward, pathetic worm!”

Facing her, he looked at her derisively and unsheathed his nail.

“What shame, what humiliation, Blackwyrm ! Losing against me, in this form? How weak thou hast gotten …”

He stopped a moment, and then added, musing at his own cruelty:

“What would mother think, seeing you this way.”

Blackwyrm shifted and hissed in pain, she tried to howl, but her voice was getting weak.

“Were it not for thy shameless ploy, rankest putrefaction, I would have triumphed …”

“Thou wouldst, thou wouldst … Yet thou didst not. Thou hast envied my kingdom, thou hast coveted my lordship, but now, thou art nothing!”

Blackwyrm did not answer. Her eyes, that were burning in hatred before, were now full of pain and fear. The king, with a movement of his two intact wings, rose in the air and landed on her head, just above her great eye, where his blade would pierce through her brain.

With a venomous tone, the king continued:

“Let me tell thee the object of thy reign, sister, let me enumerate thy titles…”

“ Wait …” Blackwyrm whispered. But her brother did not listen, all absorb in his revenge, he continued.

“ Lord of Dirt …”

“ Brother, let me go, I swear I will never return.”

Her voice was shaking with terror and desperation, as she could feel her sight fading, her blood flowing out of her body, he heart failing.

But the king continued, whispering each word slowly, rejoicing in her feeling of dread.

“ Lord of Scum”

Everything was fading and getting so intense at the same time, her mind put through infinite torture.

“Lord of Fools !”

Fear of death was overwhelming her senses. She could not tell who she was, what had happened, why she was being slowly killed, she could not tell who he was, the knight with his torn wings, with his pale light and cruel eyes, with his long white nail, ready to be thrust into her brain …

With her last breath, she whispered:

“Slayer…”

The white knight seemed to hesitate for he second, then he planted his nail into her eye.

A sharp pain.

Intense regret.

Nothing.

This was over.

…

The pale king felt a sharp pain surging through his wind. Now that his hatred had receded, he was slowly making sense of his surroundings, making sense of what he had done.

He saw it. His nail thrust to the guard in his sister’s eye, wyrm blood on his hands. Her last word, in his mind echoed: “slayer”.

Now that the thrill of the fight had faded away, he felt incredibly sad and alone. Now, he could tell. She was really the last one.

Emerging from his vision, he saw this same dreadful version of himself he had sadly grown accustomed to. The thing was looking at him with empty eyes, whispering:

“Look at thy hands, wyrm. On them, the blood of the last of thy kin.”

The pangs of shame and regret hit him painfully. Did he really have to? Even if she was cruel, even if she had killed … was that right, to kill the last one that remained of his previous family? But he had to, for the kingdom, for the people. To protect this civilization, to protect this hope, he had to pay the price…

The voice of his mind was soughing with a sense of dread and tragedy:

“No cost too great.”

Slowly, with regret and apprehension, he turned towards Grimm and the engineers. They were not cheering for this victory. They just stood, silently, staring at him with an expression of shock and fear. As he turned to Grimm, he felt his throat tighten, his heart heavy. Even Grimm, even the beautiful red eyes of Grimm, even these eyes he had loved for so long now… They were gazing at him with this selfsame expression of shock and incomprehension.

In a panicked move, he tried to get off Blackwyrm’s body, but his wings and his legs failed him, and he fell on the cold floor, in front of her gaping mouth, from which a stream of thick blood was now flowing.

His vision felt obscured, his hearing unsure, as he was overtaken by a state of dizziness. In the corner of his eye, the grey king with eyes of void was still here, repeating his ominous words.

“ Let the crown rest heavy upon thy head,

Ruthless ruler, slayer of kin,

If the murder of such family thy soul scorches so,

For what comes next, thou art ill prepared.”

Visions grew larger, eight eyes were gazing in the dark, her voice, her cruel voice still in the cavern’s echo … “ Let me rest heavy on thy soul tomorrow …”, and something else, something golden, comforting yet horrid, a shining crown, red, flaming eyes, the golden mask again, blazing orbs, soft wings…

The pale king lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on, with every new chapter, PK rolls 2 D20 for mental health. Grimm junior rolls 1 D20. Grimm senior rolls 1 D10.
> 
> This chapter was inspired by this theory : https://www.reddit.com/r/HollowKnight/comments/9dcp5s/comprehensive_lore_theory_the_colosseum_of_fools/


	17. A Pact in Light and Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare King finally finds the object of his revenge. unsurprisingly, he is not the only one who desires its demise.

“ I can feel it. It is here, the light you seek.”

Godseeker stood in front of the door of a great kingdom. Some other travelers came and went, flashing her strange looks. One child pointed out at her mask, asking their mother if it was made of gold. This place had seen many people cross its borders. Members of many different tribes, warriors, salespersons, some came to sell their merchandise or their craft, other had no precise purpose, they had just felt drawn to the light that guided those who trespassed into the wastelands. Godseeker, in a way, belonged to the second category.

She could feel it very precisely now, a sharp, pale light enveloped this kingdom. With this light alone, her people could ascend to summits of godhood they had never reached before. And the best thing was that it was not only this light: other powers were inhabiting this kingdom. Another pale light, gentle and soft, was taking the shape of a strange tree emerging from the center of the subterranean land. And then, there was this green power, one that was very ancient and crossed realities, sleeping and birthing many wonders from her dream. There was also this other light, a golden, dream like light, however, this one seemed faint compared to the other gods she could sense. And then, there was this other power. It was something deeper and more ancient. Was it really a god? Was it some kind of other force? She could not tell. However, this dark presence made her uneasy, even if it seemed unmoving, and buried very deeply in the most remote confines of the kingdom … this presence frightened her.

In Godhome, the dream form of Godseeker turned towards the nightmare king.

“ God of nightmares … We do dot regret making this pact with you. Your quest has led us to a place of many gods.”

The nightmare king contemplated the different lights filling Godhome, as the power of attunement rushed through him. The heart was beating faster, pulsating with greed. It had recovered, now, and craved red essence.

“ Very well, Godseeker, very well. You’ve accomplished your task. I cannot wait the hour of my revenge … And I am convinced that this kingdom will soon be filled with the essence of nightmares.”

The god of nightmares could feel it very clearly. The light that had banished him long ago was here, and it had changed. This light he could recognize between thousands of other lights, this light the memory of which he had sealed in his mind as a testimony of his desire for revenge, this light that was so savage under the mountain, made of powerful blades and fierce winds… it had weakened. It was distressed. This light he hated so … it felt like it was begging to be crushed and extinguished.

The nightmare king savored this moment, as a dreadful smile twisted his features. What a delight it would be, to put it out slowly, to destroy its mind and its heart, to inflict upon it a slow death packed with suffering, this ungodly worm that had dared chase him out of his own realm, this prideful creature that had thought it could do such affront to a god, and escape the consequences …

And yet, that was not the most delightful thing of all, because he could feel it: in this kingdom, a young heart was longing for him, a young innocent heart that sought the former power of the troupe, one that ignored the real nature of nightmares… Or rather, one that refused to believe in their horror. He felt his heart being filled with extasy. What a wonderful toy, what a pleasurable way to regain his former slaves … What a delightful tool to enact his revenge!

Then, the god of nightmares perceived it. The other light, the golden light, dimmed, coming from far away in the dream, beyond the borders of Godseeker’s domain.

“ Godseeker. He said. I thank you for your services. Now, settle here, and attune, let your people regain their former glory. As for me, before I enact my revenge … there’s an old acquaintance I’d like to meet.”

On these words, he took flight on the direction of the distant sun.

…

Drifting away on the borders of dreams unremembered, at the very limit of the reality of minds, before everything faded into oblivion, the radiance was fulminating. Her heart, in the past, could prove gentle and loving. In the way she loved the sun, in the way she loved the tribe of moths, their calm and peaceful dreams, their soft fur, their arcane traditions that bound them deeply to the realm of the sleeping and the realm of the dead. Sure, she was also able to hate, like she had hated this little brother of hers, the one that had reclaimed the darker part of her realm, the one that had proved pitiful and weak, undeserving of the name of a god of dreams.

The radiance, back then, felt a genuine love for mortal souls, for these lonely travelers that passed, unaware, though her golden skies, love for the creatures that were born with a mind, for those who laid lengthily, eyes wide open in the night, for those who turned their sight towards things that were greater than them, with their mortal forms, towards things they could not comprehend, like life, death, eternity and stars. How she had loved them, these discreet visitors of her dreams, these heralds with pen or squill, who transported their memories of her wonders into the waking reality. They were like this, her dear moths, a people that rested peacefully on the margin of kingdoms, wars and history, a people that sailed through time in silence while tending to the unborn and the dead, a people who explored her wonders with deference and fascination, flying around her light with soft and silent wings, chanting gentle melodies, worshipping the glimmer that remained, even in the darkest of nights.

And yet, that tribe, her dear tribe of beautiful moths … they had turned away from her. They had been fascinated with this other light, the cold and harsh light of mind, the light of that horrible, prideful creature who had seduced them with its paleness, with its honeyed words, with its empty promises, with its disgusting pretense of foresight.

Now that the object of her love had been ravished, the only thing she felt was hatred. Now that the object of her hopes had been profaned, the only thing she desired was revenge.

How she longed for it, for this creature’s body to be ripped apart and scattered away in the wind, for its mind to crumble under the weight of suffering and despair, for its light to be forever extinguished, for its memory to be tarnished, then forgotten, how she craved for its death! She had imagined countless ways to make it suffer, to take everything it held dear and tear it down in front of its powerless eyes, to destroy it slowly, body, soul, light and mind, to make it beg for mercy, to make it feel one last surge of fake hope, before delivering the final blow …

Radiance’s thoughts were interrupted by an irritating voice she remembered all too well.

“ Well well well, sister. How your light has dimmed !”

“ Nightmare king … she hissed. It seems you have recovered from your previous defeat. But still, you depend on the power of that pitiful tribe of idiotic worshippers … “

“ Do not mock me sister. It would be very ill advised for you to laugh at my banishment, for it seems that by the very same foe you have been defeated !”

“ Do not dare to compare us, brother ! You’ve lost to this worm in a fair fight, while I was pushed away by its underhanded means. In a duel, I would have been the victor !”

“ You can boast about your hypothetic victory as much as you want, my poor, vanquished sister, but that does not change the fact that your light is fading, day after day, second after second … How long will it be until this world has completely forgotten about you ?”

“Shut you mouth, scion of nightmares ! I feel it now, your little troupe of slaves does not exist anymore, your existence feeds of the burning remains of your past self !”

“ Not for long, sister. It appears that my troupe could very well be reunited, and sooner than you think !”

“ What do you mean ?”

“ I sense a troubled heart, it longs for my power, it is looking for me. Soon, it will be mine.”

Radiance frowned, and scoffed bitterly :

“ What are you here for then ? To boast about the rebirth of your troupe ? To mock my condition ? I would not advise it, little brother. Who knows what I could do to you once I recover my strength …”

“ Though I admit I take great pleasure in seeing your present distress, I did not come here only for my entertainment.”

“What for, then ?”

“ Oh, poor sister … has the big bad worm made your wit recede ? Has it stolen your mind too ? How can it be, that you know what it did to me, what it did to you, and still, you cannot tell ?

“ King of nightmares … Is it an alliance you seek ?”

The scarlet god laughed, looking at his sister.

“ You see me reassured: All reason has not left you then. Indeed, I see our interests converge. We both seek revenge on the crawling worm, it would be a shame not to band together to take it down. Think, sister, think, how much we will be able to make it suffer, with our powers combined !”

“ Now I understand your proposal. I agree to combine my power with yours, but I do not trust you. I will not help you in any way, unless our agreement is sealed in a contract.”

“ A pact, then …”

“ An oath, a promise. The one who breaks it shall yield their power to the other.”

The nightmare king thought for a moment, before answering :

“ Very well, then. Tell me your terms.”

“ I want you to share with me the power you have gained from the Godseeker’s worship, so that I can interfere again with the waking world.”

“ I think your terms are fair. Here are mine : the plan we use to crush the worm, we will craft it together, as each of us shall rejoice equally in our revenge. You will not act without my avail, and I will not act without yours. My second term is that we take our time. I want to savor this as much as I can.”

The Radiance pondered for a few seconds and answered :

“ Very well. I shall accept this. Your terms do not contradict my desires.”

The two gods looked at each other. For a moment, their mutual dislike for each other receded, as they shared their desire for revenge.

“ Let seal it, then,” He said.

Dream magic surrounded them, as Radiance proclaimed:

“ This contract shall bind us for the duration of our revenge.”

Nightmare King continued:

“ It shall be sealed in light.”

“ It shall be sealed in flames.”

“And it shall seal the wyrm’s demise in blood, madness, despair and bane”.

With these last words, the oath was sealed. It surrounded them suddenly, filling them with a new power.

It was here, now, shining in gold and red, a pact made explicitly for the purpose of bringing death and suffering, made explicitly for the purpose of revenge …

A pact in light and flames.

The two gods looked at each other, their eyes burning with vicious glee.

The Radiance whispered, her heart vibrating with sinister glee and hatred:

“ Well then, brother. Shall we begin ?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes ! I did it ! The real meaning of the title has been revealed !


	18. First Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The infection begins to plague the kingdom, and Xero knows how to stop it. Why is everyone getting in his way ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a trippy chapter again. Prepare !

Xero did not believe in curses. Those who claimed that they existed were cowards or weaklings. They accused fate of their own shortcomings; they lacked the strength to take hold of the events in their life. Curses, bad luck, he had always thought that these were only signs of one’s own weakness, of one’s lack of prudence, of one’s lack of spirits.

Xero slashed through the air with his nail, trying to vent off his frustration as well as he could. What is what they meant, those cynical bugs of the capital, when they said the kingdom was too perfect, that it could not go like this forever? These pesky city dwellers knew nothing about the problems they already had, their town seemed prosperous, so they did not care about anything else. They blatantly ignored the problems their kingdom had with Deepnest, even if workers and soldiers had lost their lives in the process, they did not even acknowledge the pressure put on the cavern’s environment by the growing population, the struggle to secure resources. Now, however, these complicated times seemed calm and peaceful, compared with the current situation.

It was as if the attack of the Blackwyrm had triggered a flow of calamities that came in a quick succession, one new problem appearing before the other was even solved. First, it was the Deepnest. Herrah was a keen strategist, and when she had learned about the attack, she had decided to take advantage of the weakened state of their army to expand her territory. If it wasn’t for the help of the mantises, who managed to close a heavy door on then, now doubt they would have been able to reclaim the entire west side of the kingdom. Then, not even three days after this event, the epidemic had begun. It was an unknown infection that was taking over in Crystal Peak, most miners were already infected, and displayed disturbing symptoms: They slowly lost their mind and became increasingly aggressive, and their bodies began to exude a strange, orange substance.

Xero did not believe in curses, and yet, this looked like one. Of course, he had heard the sayings of old bugs : “one misfortune calls many others”, they would say, “One mishap never comes alone”. The incident with Deepnest, he could understand. That was a direct consequence of the battle of the Blackwyrm, but the infection? That had nothing to do with it!

Once again, he slashed his nail ragingly at an imaginary figure he fathomed being the heart of the disease.

And these infected people … No. These infected husks … He could see very clearly that they were no longer sentient, that they could no longer be considered a part of the people of Hallownest… They kept trying to come to the city and other areas, spreading their disease, as if they had become the servants of the infection.

“And yet, why do they refuse to see the truth?” he hissed between his teeth, clenching his fist hard enough to make it hurt.

“Maybe, maybe …”

His thoughts kept coming back to the orange hue, to an idea that was not formed yet …

“maybe, maybe…”

He struck the bars of the cell with is nail. The fools, because he was a commander, they had not dared confiscated his weapon, for his honour, they said, because they were still his men, because they respected him immensely.

Why did he fail to understand?

Why did he not realize that they could not be saved?

“maybe, maybe something hidden, a dark truth …”

He was about to get rid of this disease for good, killing the infected ones made the orange glow disappeared. This corresponded to their theory, that this was a disease of the mind, that it was a disease stemming from dreams, form voices in the crystals, from the strange figure, shrouded in light, he could almost make it out himself …

“ Maybe… A lie, evil intent, hivemind …”

Why did he stop them ? They were about to dispatch them all, these infected husks, they just had to put an end to their sufferings, and then dispose of their bodies, that would be enough to put an end to the infection, right? The sooner they made this sacrifice, the more people would survive, the less cruel it would be. Why did he stop them? Why did he call them traitors, murderers? Why did he so insist in keeping them alive, when they would spread the infection all across the kingdom?

His rightful anger made his vision shine with a warm, golden glow.

What puny measures he kept taking! As if confining Crystal Peak would be enough! Why did he refuse to make this sacrifice, when not long ago, he was putting his own life on the line to lure the Blackwyrm in their trap …?

“ A lie . You heard what she said. You heard what it is, that …”

Xero grew more and more irritated. The more he thought about it, the less he could understand the king’s decisions. Something kept bugging him, something that was not right, something amiss in this whole situation, something that did not make sense…

Xero did not believe in curses. He knew that the infection was not a curse. With strength and bravery, it could be fought. He knew that the infection was not some unavoidable twist of fate, that it was but a foe like all the others, that eventually, like the other enemies he had met in his life, it would perish under his nail and disappear. Why did he not let him do what he could do best ? He was his commandant, his champion, why did he not let him do what was his purpose, use the strength that defined him, the strength of his body, the strength of his mind, the strength of his heart … Why was it suddenly frowned upon?

“ A lie. You should know, every piece, in place…”

And this annoying thing that kept getting in his eye, tinging his sight with orange !

Why did he stop him ? Did he not want to save his kingdom ?

Was it naivety, idealism ?

Was is hypocrisy, fear to lose the people’s avail ?

Was it ill conceived morals ? Feelings ?

“ A lie, something else.”

Was it, all along …

The words of Blackwyrm flashed through his mind :

“I will elect this place to make it my own nest. Then, I will take hold of thy people, I will consume their minds, and I will make them my slaves, like mother did, like all wyrms should do with bugs”

“ Yes, think !”

His mind’s whispers felt triumphant, as if he were about to make a grand discovery.

Like all wyrms should do …

Like all wyrms do …

Ideas flashed through his mind.

Hivemind

Pale light

Light

Danger

So that was it ? The reason why he stopped him … Now it all made sense.

He understood it now, what the engineer who was operating the trap in kingdom’s edge was saying.

Cruelty

His true nature

Light … Danger…

Hivemind, taking over …

All bugs, slaves.

Rage ran through his veins. Spite, shame. His vision was blurred by anger, tinged orange by his revolt.

So that was it, what the wyrm was doing, taking over with lies, not letting him kill. All the others… They failed to see through his deception, ha had to free them, he had to … KILL.

Xero did not believe in curses. Things that other called that name had always yielded to his blade, this one was no different.

Free them. Save them. KILL… Pale light … KILL…

Hail the savior of the kingdom,

Hail the knight with his red cape,

Hail the bearer of crimson helmet

Hail the wielder of shining blades.

Hail the hero who slayed the pale tyrant,

Hail the slayer of the pale wyrm,

Hail the scarlet knight, bearer of twilight

Hail the savior of this age.

With unprecedented strength, one he did not remember having before, Xero broke the bars of the cells and stepped outside. The guards, poor creatures, put up little resistance, they fell easily under his nail, unable to stop him in his sacred mission.

KILL, free them all, KILL.

He passed through the prison, following the pale light, heading towards danger, ready to put an end…

“ Hail the prince in scarlet clad,

Hail his rightful rebellion,

Hail the warrior, ender of pains

Hail for justice has blessed his blade.”

He was there, in the small garden, the monster waiting to be slayed, it turned towards him, still wearing its mask of deceit, its mask of surprise and worry.

KILL …

Why was he here, holding his nail ?

KILL …

His consciousness was fading, a voice was calling him from far away, far away on the other side of the golden cloud…

The voice called a name he hardly recognized, but it was fading too, and the cloud seemed so soft, so warm the light, so magnificent her crown, so gleeful, her eyes…

What was the point to leave, the realm free of worry, free of pain, when everything here was just …

Bliss.

Was it so precious, after all, a mind to think?

…

The pale king barely avoided the slash of Xero’s heavy nail. Even with all his efforts, calling his name, trying to chase the orange mist with his light, the commander did not respond. He kept attacking, like the other infected bugs. The king was in no condition to fight, and Xero was a strong warrior. Just one strike of his nail could be devastating, he had to act quickly, or it would end badly for him. Besides, Xero was between him and the exit, and he could hardly fly with his injured wings. There was no room to escape. The only solution was to end this as soon as possible.

As he launched wave after wave of soul nail, most of which were avoided by the warrior, he felt that something strange was happening. Even if this was a life or death situation, he felt strangely detached. It was as if he was watching the seen from afar, from some point in the back of his head, sensations and feelings were dimmed, so much so that he hardly felt anything at all.

He felt that way too when Xero barely missed is head, his nail leaving a deep scratch on his cheek. He felt that way when he noticed that the guard at the garden’s entrance was dead.

He felt that way when at last, one of his soul nails pierced through Xero’s chest, when the orange glow in his eyes faded, leaving him lifeless in front of him, his blood slowly flowing of the moss. This was not the first time that his heart had felt cold like this. After the fight against Blackwyrm, this had happened more frequently. He knew he should be grieving, in a way, he really felt horrible about this, this was Xero, the valiant commander, the faithful warrior, Xero who was hot headed and often acted without thinking, Xero who was too impatient to wait for orders, Xero, who was so strong, and honest to a fault, who would do anything to protect the people, Xero who was ready to doom his soul if it meant that others could live … Yet, despite all this, he felt so distant, his heart was numb, his sight had shifted, and he was seeing the scene as if he was several feet above, and Xero’s blood on the moss was drawing a strange figure, the shape of wings behind his back, a three-pointed crown behind his head, and the moss was shining with a golden light…

His eyes, from under the helmet, looking at him with scorn, surrounded by the eyes of the engineer, by Grimm’s eyes, that were full of fear at that moment, the empty dark eyes all around, in the moss, his own shadow deformed into something horrible, something that looked like void tendrils and took the shape of the dark one, the dark one’s many eyes looking at him with scorn, as everything around whispered “ I told you so.”

Xero’s voice echoed through darkness. “Let me rest heavy on thy soul tomorrow…”

Why did he look so much like him, like the red knight with his two nails … And the moss watered by fresh blood let bloom shining flowers, golden and red, that bloomed around Xero’s body like a beautiful field, the field of flowers extended to the great horizon, with a strange, clear sky, and in this sky …

A golden sun rising

Two pairs of eyes staring, one of pure light, one of pure flame

A great shadow

A dark pit …

A voice very far away … “my king ? Do you see me ?”

And another voice, that was very close, one that was a memory.

**_Repent._ **

“ My king, say something !”

**_I prophecy_ **

**_You will be the ruin of this land._ **

“ Why isn’t he answering ?”

**_Repent_ **

Someone was shaking his shoulder. Their voices were closer, now.

“ Try slapping him !”

“ But isn’t that disrespectful ?”

He could almost perceive what was going one, and …

“ Lurien, stop having the willies for one second in your life !”

“But…”

“Then I’ll slap him myself !”

The pale king felt someone slapping him and immediately came back to his senses. Lurien and Grimm were standing in front of him. Lurien looked incredibly worried, but Grimm’s expression was a little smug. Behind them, two guards were taking Xero’s corpse away.

Staring quizzically at the two of them, he said :

“ What happened ?”

“ We heard that Xero had escape and that he was infected, so we went looking for you, Lurien answered, in a panicked voice. And then we saw that he had gotten to you before us, and he was dead and … Even when we called you, you did not answer, you were spacing out completely, for one second I thought that this was the infection.”

“ Do not worry. I do not believe I can be infected … But now, I have a clearer idea of the cause of this disease. I can think of a way to stop it.”

Lurien nodded.

For the rest of the day, they completed the report on the incident and prepared for Xero’s funeral in the resting grounds.

Finally, they were able to go back to the white palace. As they walked through the corridor, Grimm said :

“ It’s getting worse, isn’t it.”

“Yes. It’s getting more and more difficult to interpret. And it keeps happening at the worst possible moments.”

“ Why don’t you tell them ? Lurien and Monomon, the knights. You trust them, don’t you ? Wouldn’t it be easier if they knew ?”

The king laughed : “Grimm, I see through your evil masterplan. You want the entire city of tears to slap me at every occasion, don’t you ?”

Grimm giggled a little, then let out a sigh.

“ This is a serious question, Wyrm, don’t try to escape it with a joke.”

“ Usually, it works, though.”

“ But not this time.”

“ Very well, then… When I told everyone about the visions, I made it sound like something that is completely under control, something everyone could trust. If they knew what it is really like, they will doubt my decisions.”

“ Let them doubt, then. It’s better than making a huge mistake.”

The king paused for a moment.

“ Maybe you’re right. I’ll think about this.”

“ Try not thinking for too long, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PK's visions keep getting creepier ...
> 
> Did you notice ? This illustration is actually a full digital painting. I'm not familiar with this method, but I think It turned out pretty well.


	19. Prince of Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Grimm finally finds the power he was looking for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter contains manipulation and precise description of physical pain. Proceed with care.

Young Grimm paced back and forth in the central square of Dirtmouth. The town did not feel like it used to. With words of the infection down below spreading, many inhabitants had left, and the ones that remained looked filled with doubts and worries. With all this going on, he could understand them. Everyone was talking about the infection, now, how it had taken over a famous commandant, how they thought that was a curse, a feat of magic, something that came back to plague them like in the old legends, when mistakes made long ago had terrible consequences on the innocents.

It was true that all this was very troubling. Yet, that was not the source of young Grimm’s worries. He could feel it, the one he was looking for, the god he had sought in his dreams, he was very close, now, and he was about to reach him. The troubles of the kingdom could wait. For now, he was looking for power. When he would be back,hopefully, with his flames, perhaps, he could do something, he would be able to help them, to protect them, to make amends for his presumption. He was convinced that he would come back to the city with the ability to solve all problems, with the strength to protect his beloved, and that he was so close, so close to the goal …

“Young one … Come here.”

The voice had interrupted his train of thought. This was the voice of a large bug who was wearing a strange yet beautiful golden mask, unlike everything he had seen before. She was sitting on a bench, in front of a small house, in which she probably barely fitted, given her size. She gestured at him, compelling him to come closer.

Young Grimm approached and looked at her with curiosity. He said :

“ Yes madam ? How can I help you ?”

“ Young one, you are looking for something powerful, aren’t you, you are looking for a god.”

He took a step backward, scratching is head with disbelief. How could this bug he had never seen know about this ? Perhaps she was a seer. One of these other people, like these bearers of snail shells, whose powers had to do with prayers, light and regrets…

“You are right… But how do you know such a thing ?”

“I know the god you are looking for. He told me to find you. Come in my house, and I’ll lead you to him.”

Even if he was suspicious of this bug, young Grimm’s curiosity got the better of him, and he entered. The stranger, seer or sorcerer, no doubt, followed him and closed the door behind her. The inside of this house was suspiciously empty, as if it was not used to live, but rather, to hide, and to wait. He was far from reassured.

“ Touch my hand, young one, and you will find the god you’re looking for.”

Young Grimm thought for a second.

“Wait … Why are you not asking for a price ? I don’t trust you.”

“ Do not worry, no price is needed. I am but the messenger of the god of red flames. He really wants to see you.”

He hesitated for a second, before touching the hand of the sorcerer.

The moment is hand brushed hers, he was no longer in the hut, no longer in reality.

The environment that surrounded him was unusual, but what made it all the more uncanny was the sense of familiarity it had… The fabric hanging around, the smell of incense, the feeling of darkness and red flames, the patched-up heart … All this echoed a memory he had always thought to be dream, one that came from the time when he was a tiny winged child, he remembered crying, trapped in flames, the despair in his father’s eyes …

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud noise, as the heart was cracked, letting out a menacing red light. Emerging from it, he saw a very familiar silhouette … With an elegant puff of red flames, he appeared. This god looked oddly similar to his father, and yet, was really different. His cape, his eyes, his head, it all glowed with the crimson hue of nightmare, and his expression was one of delight he had never seen on his father’s face. The god was looking at him with loving eyes, as he said, with a very soft voice :

“ Welcome back, my dear child. How happy I am to see you again, how happy that you went out of your way to look for me !”

He pulled young Grimm into a tight embrace. From this close, this god felt warm and powerful, he made the young bug feel that he belonged, that he had a purpose in here, that there was a very deep link between him and this realm, that he should love this god an this heart, because they had granted him life … He could see now, what he had missed, what is father had tried to keep him away from. Was it his power he was afraid of ? Was it the destiny that came with it ?

( One thing that young Grimm could not see, however, was the horrid smile on the nightmare king’s cruel face.)

The god took one step back, looking proudly at his child.

“ You’ve grown so well, my dear little Grimm, even without flames… What a shame that your father kept us apart all this time.”

“ You are really …”

“ Yes, I am the nightmare king. The source of your father’s stolen flames. I have been abandoned long ago, but now, for your sake, I am back.”

Stroking young Grimm’s cheek, he continued.

“ Now, my child, tell me what you need. You’ve been looking for me so long, and I missed you so. Tell me, tell me what it is that you need, tell me your desires. I shall grant your wishes, my dear, dear child.”

The more he looked at the nightmare king, the less Young Grimm could understand his father’s stories. The god of nightmares seemed so benevolent, everything in his demeanor showed that he loved him like he would love his own child. And, in a way, wasn’t he really his child? Young Grimm answered :

“ I want power. I want flames. I want to be able to do something important in this world, to be able to protect the one I love …”

( Hearing these word, the nightmare king had to make a tremendous effort not to let out a sinister jeer. This was so perfect! If everything kept going so well, he would have a hard time keeping up his façade)

The nightmare king answered, still with a sweet and loving tone:

“ Of course, my child. I can give you this. You deserve this, as a scion of nightmares. You just have to do what I say, and my power will flow through your veins in no time. Your flames shall be brighter and deadlier than your treacherous father’s, I will give you so much, my dear child, so much more than I was willing to give him. I will grant you a power to match my own, because my child, I want to give you a crown… The crown of the prince of Nightmares.”

Young Grimm looked at the god with eyes full of hopes. This was an outcome he had not even dared to dream, and yet, he was here, ready to receive power unprecedented, from this god that clearly loved him, from this god who was also his father …

“ Nightmare king, he asked. I don’t know how to thank you…”

“ No need to thank me, my dearest. This is what I want too. If you are ready to receive this power, we shall proceed!”

Young Grimm nodded enthusiastically.

A black knife appeared in the hand of the king of nightmares.

“ What is this ?” Young Grimm asked.

“ This will be needed, for you to receive the power I propose. See, with the help of his little wyrm friend, your father has severed the link that bound us. With a pact signed in blood, it shall be sealed again. Then, we will be linked for all eternity, and you will have everything your father has denied your, power, flames, a child …”

“ A contract ? Does this mean that you want something in exchange ?”

The nightmare king smirked, and whispered :

“ Do not worry about this, my adorable child. I will not ask anything difficult to obtain. The only thing I wish is that you grant my first two request. After that, you will be free.”

“ Very well, then.”

Young Grimm took the knife and made a deep cut on the palm of his hand. As soon as this was done, the blood that flowed from the cut took the shape of a seal and of a spell, and bright fire was lit on the red thread.

The nightmare king said : “ Now, prepare, dear child, for you shall receive my gift. Just letting you know … It might be a little painful.”

The moment the god said these words, Young Grimm felt a sharp pain surging through his body. He had never felt something so horrible before. It was as if his blood and his organs were burning, the flames were consuming his heart, they were taking over his veins, his head was filled with laughs and whispers, his vision suddenly got red, and it seemed that his eyes were burning too, that his body was melting, that he was but ashes, even his mind was burning… And the worst thing was that he didn’t stop, even when the burn was so intense that it seemed that he should be consumed entirely, it continued, surging through his bones, taking him apart from the inside …

Young Grimm fell on his knees and began to cry with pain, and his throat too was burning, it continued, and he cried for so long that in the end, so sound escaped his lips. And the heart beating in his chest was no longer his own, it was the heart of nightmares, and his mind was now inhabited by the nightmare king, staring down at him with a dreadful expression of pleasure that he did not even try to conceal. Was it real or not, he could not tell. Everything was engulfed in flames, everything was tearing apart, nothing left, ashes, ashes, ashes … darkness.

A soft voice was calling him.

A voice in his own mind.

“ Don’t worry, it’s over my child. It’s over.”

The nightmare king was cradling him in his arms, slowly rocking back and forth, like his father did, when he was a child, when he had fevers or bad nights, he had embraced him exactly like this when they were still on the road, humming a soft melody while looking at the night sky.

“ This is over, my dear little Grimm. You’ve done very well, I am proud of you.”

His father… Did he have this venomous mirth in his tone, did he have this cruel expression of irony ?

“ Now, we will be together forever, I will never leave you, my child. How beautiful you are, now with your gleaming eyes.”

Something was binding him. It was binding his will, his agency had been stripped from him, and the nightmare king was looking at him with such horrible derision …

“ Nightmare king … What did you do ?”

“ Why my child, my little nightmare prince … As I said I would, I granted your wish. You have your flames, now, our bond is restored. From now on, you are a real servant of nightmares.”

Young Grimm stood up, and jumped away from the god.

“ what do you mean ?”

“ See, my poor, poor foolish child, I did what I told you I would do. I granted you power and flames, aren’t you happy ?”

“ I know you did something else.”

The king of nightmares snapped his fingers, and young Grimm felt invisible flames forcing him to kneel. The god laughed :

“ Ho, this little thing ? I seems you do not understand your situation, my cute little Grimm. Now, you belong to me. You have to serve me, my little prince. Obeying me, feeding me my scarlet essence… This is the price of your powers.”

The god stepped closer.

“ And did I mention that you cannot hide anything from me, now ? I am in your mind, I know your thoughts. Do you really regret, after everything I’ve done for you ? I made you prince, and this is how you thank me ? “

“You tricked me ! You lied!”

“ I did not lie. I told you the whole truth. Now you will have to do one or two things for me.”

Young Grimm looked at the god, feeling desperate, feeling incredibly foolish. His father had warned him, and yet, the nightmare king had tricked him so easily… but maybe…”

“ Your thoughts are so loud, my little prince! What a cute hope, you have here, to think that the wyrm could chase me away as it did for your father ? How adorable. This will not happen. It’s too weak, now, in my realm, I won’t be able to do anything against me.”

Young Grimm felt his heart sink. So, that was it. Everything was lost. He could not resist the nightmare king, he could not do anything, and for all this, the only thing he could blame was his own stupidity.

“ Now, my little prince, let me tell you about your first mission. I want you to go and find the wyrm. I want you to wound it, to weaken its spirit, so I can pull it in here. Me and my sister would like to have a little chat with this ugly creature. But please, don’t kill it. In this revenge, we want to take our time.”

Young Grimm did not answer. He felt all hope leaving him. He had been so stupid, so stupid … And the nightmare was fading, as he did not even dare to hope that it was all a dream.

…

Young Grimm woke up in godseeker’s hut. His head hurt. There was a deep cut in his hand. Something dreadful was surveilling him from the back of his mind. His ears resonated with loud heartbeats.

Godseeker exclaimed :

“ Your eyes ! Young one ! They’ve gotten so beautifully red !”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, nightmare king ? Really ?


	20. Qui Sème le Vent Récolte la Tempête

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What goes around comes around. The pale king is faced with the consequences of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for graphic depiction of violence/pain

When he looked around, the landscape was strange, empty. It was just rock, in every direction, with the occasional greyish grass swinging in the soft wind. On the floor, there were pieces of shell, bits of larger constructs, ruins, tombstones. This seemed to be the same, no matter the way he looked. Admittedly, he was not able so see very far. This place was dark, and it appeared his body was not glowing at all, like it used to. Even when he focused his magic, nothing happened. There was just darkness, and the very dull, ambient light source that came from somewhere very far above, just enough to be able to see a few feet away. The inability to make might worried him. He looked at his hands. The shell had lost its pure white colour, instead, it was of a dull, light grey, with thin cracks appearing from the edges. This was strangely familiar, but he could not tell why.

He made a few steps among the ruins. There was something else in here, something that was not just broken stones or dismal stretches of dirt. He got closer. That was a well. Even if it looked very old, it was not a ruin. It might even be functional. Moved by curiosity, he leant on the rim and looked inside. What he saw made him jump back. The well was filled with an obscure substance that seemed to absorb all light, and there was more and more of it, on one place where a rimstone was cracked, it was already flowing on the ground. He did not know why, but something about this substance scared him. As quickly as he could, he walked away from the well. However, he had not even made a few steps when he noticed it. Something white, a few feet away, it caught his eye. There was an old, rusty bench. On this bench, there was a child with a pure white shell. As he got closer, he noticed. The child was crying silently, and his tears were … pure black?

…

The pale king woke up with a start. He looked around in a movement of panic before he finally calmed down. This was nothing, just a dream. Now, he could hardly remember what it was. He corrected his posture on his chair and got back to work. Falling asleep in the middle of his research, really… Way to be efficient.

He rubbed his eyes and looked at the experiment once again. This was working. In the still and retort, the void substance he had collected in the abyss was slowly absorbing the orange mist from the infected blood sample. This was the observation he needed to confirm his theory.

However, even if it was clear that void had an ability to absorb the infection, he still didn’t know how to use it to cure his subjects. This was a deadly substance, just coming in contact with it was horribly painful. The worst thing was that it had a nasty tendency to destroy and consume anything as long as it was a living being. It also consumed dead flesh, in fact, it destroyed all organic matter. Shell was an exception, though, perhaps because not really a living tissue … All in all, one thing was clear: he was not to use this substance carelessly, or this would have catastrophic results.

In order to make further progress, he needed more information on the infection. He knew that it came from dreams, he knew that it had to do with a god, probably this old deity that was worshipped by moths before he arrived. Yet, if this was the doing of something sentient, he had to know its purpose, or he would never be able to find a cure.

He also needed to know more about void. Given the fact that it was worshipped by an ancient civilization, the possibility that it also contained a deity was high. And if this was the case, what he absolutely needed to know was if it had a will. If it did, using it to fight the infection would no doubt prove significantly more difficult. He had to find a way to test this hypothesis. Perhaps giving it the occasion to attack, or to communicate… He knew that down there, the substance was capable of aggression, with its deadly tendrils, it had almost managed to catch him and swallow him into nothingness. Was it a sign of will, though, or just an automatic reaction? The tendrils were only activated by the presence of living beings, when he touched it with a spear, it did not react. Perhaps this was the manifestation of its destructive properties. Perhaps this was hunger. Something else, maybe. Maybe it was just the abyss, and void, when separated from this place, lost its ability to react to objects …

He looked around the workshop while scribbling down his theories. His eyes loitered on an old piece of armour, something that had been gifted to him by some nobleman he had never seen. This thing was far too big, and it looked ridiculous. Maybe it could finally be useful, for once … He craved numerous spells on the suit of armour so that it would make a suitable container, that the void substance could activate from the inside. Of course, he forgot to take any precaution in case the armour activated and began to crash the workshop. Now, he was too absorbed by the experiment.

Being able to concentrate on something complex like this helped him a lot. It pushed away unwelcomed visions and worries. It let him make the most of every moment, of the sense of wonder it brought, of many possibilities, of hope that he could control it, what it was happening, that he would not lose to the prophecy. Most of all, this reminded him of happier times, when he used to do these things for fun, trying to bring improvements to the kingdom’s technology, when they could still laugh about these things… It reminded him of Monomon’s horrified expression when she saw the prototypes, of the magnificent failure of Grimm’s ultimate lighting device, of Monomon’s assistant permanent look of shock when he discovered how lacking is scientific method was, of his Root’s hilariously suspicious demeanor when it came to anything that was mechanical, of Lurien’s inability to understand why he was always the one drawing the short straw when it came to testing the many versions of the railway prototype.

When the carving of spells was finished, he prepared the tools needed to transfer void into the suit of armour. He was about to begin this final step, when he heard someone knocking.

“ Come in.”

The visitor entered. This was Grimm. Was it really him, though? He looked different, less confident, and he had the grey cloak, and a nail…

“Grimmchild? What happened to you?”

The moment he said this, he regrated it immediately. That was tactless of him. His friend’s son hated it when someone called him Grimmchild. The pale king saw the young moth frown, as it took a step forward.

“I’m sorry, I mean, young Grimm, why do you look so much like your father ? Now it will be difficult to tell the two of you apart …”

Despite his poor attempt to lighten the mood, young Grimm’s expression did not change. He looked sad, frightened, in pain.

The fear and determination that danced into his burning eyes made the pale king see flashes of memories from very long ago, when he was still the solitary wyrm under the mountain. How similar they looked, young Grimm, right now, and his father, back then. He looked so helpless, and yet he came bravely, facing a great danger…

They were so different, however. The visitor under the mountain had this spark of hope, but the young creature in front of him … he looked completely hopeless.

“Young Grimm? Are you feeling unwell? Do you want me to call your father?”

Young Grimm did not answer, he just walked towards him, with his nail in hand.

Images flashed through the king’s mind… Red, scarlet cape, a great nail, golden light, Xero’s dead body in the field of flowers…

But Grimm’s son was different, he did not have any orange glow, the only light he had were… his eyes. Red flames, nightmares. Could it be …

Young Grimm was but one step away, now, and he seemed so helpless …

“I’m sorry …” the young one whispered.

The king knew what was going to happen, and yet, he felt unable to do anything. Even if the young bug in front of him was lifting his nail, he was struck in place, unable to move, unable to react. Xero, dead on the moss, and his voice, his own voice that had cried when he was struck by the soul nail, and now, Grimm’s own son, he looked so scared, so pained… How could he ever do this to his dear friend, how could he do such a thing to the one who had helped him so many times, to the one who had loved him, back then… Scattered visions, the red knight, dead, Xero, the flowers, Grimm’s own body, ripped apart by white fangs, bleeding to death under the mountain…

One second before it was to late, the king was finally able to move again. Before the nail could hit him, he managed to catch the blade and block it under his arms. He let out a hiss of pain, from his hands, glowing blood was leaking out slowly, dripping down from the edge of the weapon. The king swore to himself. This time, he would succeed, he would not kill him, he knew how to stop this, Xero’s fate would not repeat.

“Nightmare king! He snapped. Show yourself! Stop using this child and come at me, coward!”

The king heard a foreboding jeer in his head, and suddenly … wait, why was the workshop now lit in red? And suddenly, he felt an intense burn on his back .

His vision was fading again, young Grimm looked horrified, he had fallen on his knees, letting go of his nail. The pale king could almost swear he had seen him cry before everything faded to darkness.

…

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a place he recognized all too well. This was the place where he had vanquished the king of nightmares, this dreadful place, with the heart beating in the center, the horrible, patched up veins, the glow of crimson essence.

It seemed so clear, now, so unsurprising.

Two pairs of eyes were staring at him, one of pure light, one of pure flame. They had appeared before him, the goddess of dreams, the god of nightmares. They were staring down at him with hatred and glee, as their lights merged into a dizzying blur.

The king felt himself overwhelmed by rage. With the same savagery that had propelled him so many years ago, he tried to launch at the two gods. He wanted to destroy them completely, to get rid of them for good, to tear them apart so completely that they would never be reborn, and then, his kingdom would be saved, his dream would be saved, and Hallownest would finally be able to last eternal.

However, he was stopped immediately. He realized it now: the nightmare king, this time, was prepared. His magic had been sealed and burning shackles around his wrists and his legs were keeping him in place.

The nightmare king stepped forward.

“Good day, little worm ! How glad I am to be able to meet you again. I hope you missed me.”

Radiance advanced too, her eyes gleaming with the joy of revenge.

“Good day, villainous thief. How glad I am to meet you, at last!”

The king growled.

“God of nightmares. Free me at once! Or is it that you’re too afraid to face me? Because I’ve already killed you? Because I will kill you again?”

“ How presumptuous, little worm. Do you really believe that in this lesser form, you can do anything against us ?”

The pale king felt the shackles’ burn getting more intense.

“ What do you want from me, moth goddess, king of nightmares ?”

“ What do we want ? Radiance said, with an air of disbelief. Well, we want revenge, of course, we want to retake what rightfully belongs to us.”

“Nothing belongs to you, moth. You old gods are too weak to own anything real.”

The nightmare king approached and leant down, so he could look at him in the eyes.

“Do you really want us to tell you, what it is that we reclaim, what it is, that’s rightfully ours ?”

The king just hissed at him in answer.

“ I shall tell you, then, the scarlet god continued. We shall take your people”

Radiance added :

“We shall take their dreams, we shall take their minds…”

“We shall take this whole kingdom”

“And then, when you’ve lost everything, when you’ve lost all hope … “

“We shall take your life.”

“Leave them alone! the king exclaimed. They have nothing to do with this!”

He felt another sharp burn in his wings, as the Radiance also approached, laughing.

“You should have thought about this when you stole my people from me, vile crawler. You are the one who brought this upon yourself.”

“You should have thought about this when you banished me out of my realm, when you took me my dear troupe, stupid earthworm. You are the one who brought this upon yourself.”

The pain was getting worse, now, the flames, the light … It was scratching his back, in the place of incandescent wings, their power was tearing through his magic, through his soul, their blazing fangs were gnawing at his own light. With every effort he made to escape their restraints, he felt the burning deeper into his flesh, and they were taking so much joy in this sufferings, the two gleaming gods of the dream…

The wyrm had a high tolerance for pain. Many times, he had been injured, starved, poisoned, burnt… and all these times, he had survived. He had known the spear of the silver knight, the spears of the emperor bird, the fire of nightshade, the deadly fangs of Blackwyrm… How could it be that these puny gods, these unreal creatures could make him feel such agony, how was it possible that the vanquished god, that the forsaken goddess could hurt him so ?

Trying to hide his suffering, he hissed again at the two gods:

“ The only thing you should blame for your loss is your own weakness ! God of nightmares, whose power depends on the enslavement of a child, god of golden light, whose reign depends on the worships of dreamers! “

In his rage, his light began to tear through the restraints, his mind began to expand beyond the limits the king of nightmares had set. He let himself be filled by the fierce spirit of the wyrm, the very same soul of wyrm that always came back to him when he trod between life and death, the soul of battles, soul of despair, soul that wanted to live with such passion that it could burn everything around.

“ Let me tell you the cause of your defeat ! You are parasites on the mind of the livings, you are weak! I can live without anyone, without moth dreamers, without troupe! I can live forever in this world, I can shape it with my own claw! How it shines through your flames, your envy, little lights ! How you desire it, the power of a real higher being ! How you must despair at the idea that every mortal can chase you away with the simple power of waking ! “

One of Radiance’s swords tore through his arm.

“ Speak no longer, white worm. Your life is in our hands.”

“ Is it, really ? Then tell my why I’m not already dead!”

“ Just killing you is not enough, thief, she pursued. We want to see you lose everything you hold dear, we want to see you struggle helplessly, clinging to the fake hope that you can do something against us, we want to see you despair, we want to see you beg for mercy !”

The nightmare king continued :

“ And then, we want to see you curse yourself for making enemies of real gods !”

“You brought this upon yourself, little worm, your pride, your rage… You should have known better. What goes around comes around, and there’s no way for you to escape our revenge.”

The wyrm screeched, launching a wave of soul nails in retaliation.

“ You have made a terrible mistake, little lights ! You’ve revealed yourselves to me, you’ve revealed your intentions ! Now, I know everything I need to destroy you for good. What goes around comes around, you say ? Then prepare! Prepare for your defeat! I will vanquish you once again, and Hallownest will last eternal, freed from your infectious flames!”

The nightmare king laughed, looking at the wyrm with Irony.

“ Poor little worm. Were you not such a disgusting creature, I would feel sorry for you. How tragic that you still have hope ! How we will rejoice in your pain ! Struggle in the dirt, try as much as you want. Your fate is sealed in her light and my flames !”

On these words, the wyrm was pushed out of the dream in a gust of red and golden fire.

He was still in the workshop, his body still filled with urning pain. Young Grimm had recoiled in the back of the room, next to the window, looking at him with a terrified expression.

The wyrm noticed, then. He was still growling with pain and rage, his wings were still burning, his hands bleeding, tears of wrath on his cheeks as he was glaring at young Grimm, his frame surrounded by sharp, glowing nails, ready to be launched at the helpless creature before him. (Nails in the shape of his crowns. Nails in the shape of his fangs.)

He was so terrified, now, the vessel of nightmares. With a single spell, he could … And now, nothing was stopping him, no nightshade in his blood, no chains…

The wyrm was hurling, craving for this unfair form of revenge, eager to launch at the poor child, to devour him, to let is body be controlled by despair and rage.

Maybe he would have, if his red eyes were not filled with tears.

Maybe he would have, if in his face, he did not recognize the face of his dear friend.

He heard someone opening the door. The soul nails disappeared, as the tension was suddenly relieved, he felt his vision clouding.

Someone said “My Son ?”

That was Grimm’s voice.

His voice was resounding with despair.

…

The moment he opened the door of the workshop, Grimm understood.

His son was looking at him, he looked hopeless, frightened.

His son with red eyes, his son with flames.

He was the one he wanted to save the most from nightmares. He was the one for whom he had been prepared to give so much, just so he could be free.

“Grudges the wyrm should bear, for thou trespassest in its den. Yet the absurdity of thy claim amuseth the wyrm. Thus it should grant thy request, wouldst thou pay the price.”

What costs he was ready to pay !

He would have given his life.

He would have given his mind.

He would have given his freedom, so that his son, just his son, could be free.

And now, he was the one being reclaimed by nightmares.

Why didn’t he notice? Why did he fail to stop him ? How could he even call himself a father?

His son looked sad and ashamed, and when Grimm tried to reach out to him, he fled through the window.

How could it be? This was so cruel.

“What goes around comes around…” The phrase, suddenly, flashed through his head.

So that was it. That was the revenge of the god of nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Qui sème le vent récolte la tempête" Is a French saying that could correspond to " You reap what you sow". However, the French proverb has additional meaning, because the direct translation in " I you sow the wind, you will reap the storm": this means that one should be ready to face the consequences of their actions, but it also adds the idea that there might be a disproportion between what you have done in the first place and the extent of the repercussions it has.


	21. White sand always flows out of grasp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The white lady ponders at her feelings regarding the new situation in Hallwonest

The queen looked at the white sand around the small basin that had been built in the palace’s garden. This place was small, it did not compare to her gardens in Greepath, put at least, it bought her the same feeling of peace she could find back there. In this calm environment, she could just feel her plants grow, feel the flowers bloom, her reflection in the blue water ( water from the Blue Lake), it let her think, her mind was not assailed by the constant activity that reigned in other places. This, like her greater gardens, was her own place, her private domain, the place where she could water dreams and thoughts without being bothered by anyone.

She tried to take some of the white sand to examine it more closely, but it slipped between her roots, giving her a soft sensation; it sounded like a very soft rain, like regrets.

How long had it been since everything had begun to slip away? Was it the infection? But the moment the infection broke out, she had already begun to feel disconnected with the place. Even if she admired it, even if she thought that the diversity and beauty it brought to the caverns was worth protecting, their cities and their roads did not feel like her realm. Maybe that was something else, something much older, something she did not want to question because it brought it back to the happiest times of her life, to those days of careless wandering and blooming love… From the moment his light had shone upon the bugs of her caverns, her roots could not longer wander through their perceptions. They had become real people, no longer extensions of her senses, no longer hers.

She was still here, in the center of everything, her roots still spread through the caverns, but this did not feel like her domain anymore.

For one second, she wondered why she cared. Other civilizations had developed between her roots, some stemmed from the deepest borders of the place, others had been installed by mysterious travelers, the wielders of needle and thread, peoples were born and died. Whatever they did, she never really cared. They could disappear, they could doom themselves with illness or war, and she had never felt anything when they went away. That was just life, things come and go, like they are supposed to. So, why did she feel distressed when she thought of the fate of the people of Hallownest? Why did she grieve for them? They were but another people amongst many others, one that could be born, spread, wither, and die without affecting her in any way, so, why did her heart ache like it did?

She looked at her half of the kingsoul. This was the seal of their union, of their promise. The white lady knew that it was the seal that bound her to the fate of this particular people, bounds made of love for him, a bound with every soul that had been granted light, with every soul that had willingly followed. In a way, she thought of these bugs as her own children, they replaced the children they could not have. (She hoped that with time, when these hardships would be gone away, they could have a child of their own). This was the only thing he had refused. This, she knew very well, was also a thing he refused to himself, even if he truly desired it. This was because he was afraid. He could not stray from the idea that if they had children, something horrible would happen to them, something that was his own fault and that he could not avoid. This fear existed because of dreams and visions, because of a prophecy.

She often wished that her wyrm did not have these powers. Without his foresight, they could have been so much happier. She hated it, when he stopped in his track, unable to ear what she said, looking at something she could not see, something that, given his expression, was sad and scary. She hated the little signs, too, the way he started at the smallest noises, the way he kept forgetting what day it was, forgetting about eating and sleeping, and always looking at things that never existed. This made her feel like he was slipping away from her too.

She sighed as strange sensations overwhelmed her. Her heart felt heavy, she felt longing, frustration, something that made her roots fidget beneath her robes. How could it be… How was it possible that her, the daughter of the millennial tree, the one that had seen so many revolutions of the celestial vault without speaking to any creature, the one that counted seasons like they were mere seconds, the one that felt closer to the sky and the earth than to any living creature, how could it be, in this kingdom brimming with life, when she was surrounded by so many that respected her, how could it be… that she felt so lonely ?

And most of all, how could she fear? She feared that she would lose them, and that with them, she would lose him, she feared to feel her love wither, she feared this strange distance that kept getting more and more perceptible. She feared that one day, she would stop to care. She imagined what it would be, waiting for nothing, forever in a lush cave, with the simple feeling of life, with all affection, all love, all fears made dull, fading away in the form of regrets. (She had seen herself like this in many dreams, reaching out with her roots to a light that died the moment she touched it, trying to clasp him close to her heart while his shape was turning into sand that flowed away and disappeared into darkness.)

She looked at her reflection in the blue basin. While her thoughts were drifting, her roots had begun to spread into their original form. They were everywhere in the garden, now, lighting flowers and leaves with her soft glow.

The noise of the garden’s door opening caught her attention. She turned slowly towards the visitor.

This was Hegemol. Even with his armour on, one could easily see how panicked he was. He was carrying her wyrm in his arms, his features twisted in anger and pained. Bloodstained robes, scorched wings with burn marks that even for her was painful to watch. With this new wound, she doubted he could fly ever again.

Hegemol ran towards her.

“ My queen! Can you lend us your half of the kingsoul ? “

She handed him her fragment of the charm, and he put it together clumsily. As soon as the two parts were reunited, they began to gather soul, but it appeared the king did not manage to focus properly. She immediately cast healing spells. He roots were taking the same green glow they had shone with the first time they met. She remembered fondly of this moment. This was the first time she had laughed so wholeheartedly at the expanse of another creature; this had felt unlike anything she had experienced before. He was so ridiculous, back then, so silly that every single memory made her smile.

“ My wyrm, she began. Please stop acting so recklessly. I don’t know what you did this time… Why do you keep getting injured like this ?”

She saw his energy come back as the healing spells took effect. He seemed in pain, but most of all, he looked incredibly angry. He kept emitting a low growl, like he did long ago when he didn’t fully control his new form.

“ The fools …” He whispered.

“ Wyrm, please listen to me. Can you tell me what happened?”

“ In their complacency, they have sealed their demise !”

She frowned a little, wondering what she should do with a wyrm that was both helpless and completely enraged.

“Who are you talking about ?”

“Radiance. Nightmare king. Revenge hungry cretins!”

“ Please, my wyrm, try to calm down a little, if you don’t focus soul, it makes my spells less efficient.”

“They have no idea… I know exactly how to crush them, these petty gods of nothing!”

“Are you even listening to what I say ? Take a deep breath and focus !”

Without heeding her words, the wyrm began to make what was supposed to resemble an evil laughter, but seemed more like the sound of someone choking to death. The white lady sighed again. It appeared that even during these difficult times, her husband retained some of his original traits. Since she could see no other solution, she decided to indulge in his senseless demeanor, hoping that when he would have vented out his rage, he would become at least a little reasonable.

“And how will you crush them, my dear ?”

“ Their stupid little lights… I’ll trap them in eternal darkness. I’ll trick them, push them into a trap made of void. I bet these idiots will be so absorbed by their revenge that they won’t even understand what is happening to them!”

The mention of void worried her. She knew of this power. This was more ancient than anything, more ancient than her, it held deep mysteries and unfathomable darkness.

“ Is there no other way ? Using void, this seems very dangerous. I won’t let you throw yourself into a reckless plan once again.”

“You refer to Blackwyrm ? There was no problem with the plan. The execution was flawed, because I failed to follow it properly, but in the end, it worked. And when this new plan is conceived, I will not be distracted by emotions again. It will be unforgiving, unavoidable…”

“ You should not push yourself to do something like that, it’s too dangerous .”

“ Dangerous ? Doesn’t matter. They’ll get what they deserve and the kingdom will be saved, no matter the cost!”

The moment she heard those words, a part of her heart got cold, suddenly. This made her very sad, she did not know how, but she knew it would never regain its warmth.

“ Please, my wyrm… Don’t say this kind of things… You don’t know what the costs could be.”

“ I will make them pay for what they’ve done!”

The moment he said this, the growl stopped, his voice too got weaker.

“ Is there no other way ? Can’t you reason with them ?”

“They’re not reasonable. Besides, I wont let them get away with what they did so easily !”

“ But what if you have to sacrifice something important for this ? Do you imagine what it could cost you, to beat two gods ?”

“No cost too great.”

Her heart sank a little, hearing these words. She felt very sad, even if she already knew. The wyrm was ready to make many sacrifices to save his kingdom … to save his dream of eternity. She knew that one day, he would end up sacrificing too much.

She looked at him again, as her heart filled with worry, and with something that was softer, but dark, something she had felt often, lately. Acceptance. She did not have the will to struggle against fate. This was not in her nature. For centuries, she had accepted everything. Destruction, death, rebirth. Acceptance felt relieving, but it also felt very sad. It felt like unavoidable loss, dreams broken, heavy rain. Because this was the way of the world, she would accept. Because this was what she had always done, she would lose. She knew it; now. Her days to come were going to be filled with the smell of flowers withering, of dead leaves, of things slowly getting darker and dry, recoiling on themselves day after day, before returning to dust.

The rage in her husband’s eyes had disappeared. Now, he just seemed very tired, and sad. As he fell asleep in her roots, she noticed the tears on his cheeks. She turned towards Hegemol, who had stepped away and was waiting at the garden’s gate. Her vision was blurred, and her breath felt heavy. She noticed it, the, that she too, had been crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad tree again. 
> 
> the alternate chapter title should be " Root sad and emotional setups"
> 
> I'm not original. I always end up writing sad root being sad.


	22. the shadow of a doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the odds, Grimm wants to save his child by himself.

Grimm observed the pale light coiled like a delicate thread around his forearm. The strange shapes it took used to be reassuring, for him. Even if their respective wishes had been fulfilled, I was still here, the seal of promise. Now, upon looking at it, Grimm could not help being overwhelmed by a feeling of dread. This seal that had led him where he was, was it also a seal of fate? It was as if the fine thread had interwoven his destiny with that of something greater, with an unescapable tragedy he could not understand.

He understood one thing, though. From the moment this promise was sealed under the mountain, his own destiny had been tied with the wyrm’s. For so long, this future seemed bright, one of travels, adventures and kingdoms, when he didn’t know their real destination.

Grimm wonder if the wyrm knew, when he decided to cast his spell. Had his visions already revealed the horrible future that awaited them if they made this pact ? Did he lie, or was he simply ignorant? But he had no reason to lie, didn’t he ? This whole contract had only brought him more misery.

For one second, Grimm wondered. If he broke this seal of promise, would they finally be free. True, this spell did not hold any power anymore. He just kept it as a reminder of the moments they had shared, of the things they had done for each-other. It was but a nostalgic trinket that echoed the innocence of past times, when they did not know the horror of their fate.

Grim kept looking at the pale light, focusing on its soft glow. This was reassuring, at least, it was something he could cling onto, a thread that kept him from falling completely into darkness. He knew he had to look at it, not sleep, just look at the light, cling to it… because the moment he would close his eyes, he would see his son crying with despair wile being engulfed in flames.

He had to do something. He did not know what he could do, but he had to save him as soon as possible, or he would never be able to forgive himself for this. Even now, he felt like a failure, as a father, as a mentor. He had failed to protect him, he had failed to deter him from the lies and seduction of nightmares, he was still free, the one that should have been burnt long ago to feed his child with his flames, and his own child was the one burning… Grimm sighed. All this time, he had been lying to himself. Because he was a coward… Because he was afraid of death. The truth was that he knew very well what he should do. Burn the father, feed the child: by letting himself be burnt, his child would be set free.

Grimm’s other emotions were overwhelmed by distress. Now, the rest did not matter. The wyrm, the lady, the knights… If this meant that his child could be free, he was ready to hurt them. Besides, even if he knew this was unfair, a part of him still blamed the wyrm for this destiny. Because of his pride, because of the way he had made him hope for something better, he had stayed in this nest of curses, when he should have fled far away, in a place where his child could never fall prey to nightmares.

This was a risky bet, knowing the cruelty of the nightmare king. Nothing proved that he would be willing to release his child in exchange… However, Grimm trusted his desire for revenge. He knew the nightmare king blamed him for his banishment as much as he blamed the wyrm, his grudge, no doubt, was great, and he might be ready to give up on many things in order to get a hold on the one that had betrayed him so long ago.

Grimm stood up. He had taken his decision, and his resolve was strong. He would find his child again, and free him from the claws of nightmares. No matter what it would take, no matter the cost he would have to pay. He would free him. He walked down the stairs from his private quarters, ready to leave the palace.

As he reached the main entrance, he stopped in his tracks. The king was standing there, waiting for him, not doubt, looking determined and pained. Grimm wondered if he was still angry about what his child had done to him, if he would blame him, even if he had nothing to do with all this, if he would call him slayer. The wyrm could try, it was too late anyway. Besides, he was in such a weakened state that Grimm knew he could easily take him on in a fight. He walked forward until he was close enough to look down at the king. Using his height like this was something he usually avoided, because it felt unfair and a little childish, but now, he did not care.

“Out of my way. I need to go, whatever you have to complain about, I will not listen.”

The king’s expression shifted. He looked surprised, hurt.

“Grimm, you should stop this, I know what you want to do. You will not be able to save your child this way.”

He scowled at him and answered:

“Because you have something better to propose ?”

“Yes. I have a plan to defeat them both. I know it will work, and when it does, I’m sure your child will be released.”

“And how long will it take?”

“ I don’t know, but-“

“ But what ? Each second passing with my child in his grip is too much !”

“ Please listen to me Grimm, I’m not good at giving advice, but this time I am convinced that I’m right. Think a little about it, the nightmare king is a liar, you giving yourself to him will not make him free your child, he will just capture you both!”

“ I have to go, I can’t wait !”

“ Grimm, you have to understand his strategy : he needs your child, so he will not kill him. If you go now, you’ll be playing right in the palm of his hands !”

Grimm felt anger burning within his heart. Why did he try to stop him ? As if he could understand, when he did not have any child! The fact that he tried to reason him, when all this was a part of his own curse made him see red. Yet, the thing that enraged him the most was the fact that the wyrm was right. He was right, and yet, Grimm could not listen to him.

“Don’t talk of strategy when this is about my child ! I can’t stay here and do nothing!”

“Please, think logically about this, rushing like that into danger will only make things worse. If you want to do something, hep me with my plan, then we will be faster and-“

“ I’m not thinking about this logically, this is my child !”

“ Grimm, I know how you feel but you have to understand …”

“ No. You don’t know how I feel. Someone like you could never understand. I have seen how you deal with your family ! She begged for mercy in the end, didn’t she ?”

The moment these words escaped his mouth, Grimm immediately regreted it. He raised his hands, as if to stop the words in midair, but this was already too late. The king lowered his head and stepped aside, not saying anything else.

Grimm hesitated for one second and rushed through the exit.

As he searched for his son through the caverns, Grimm mused at what he was doing. He knew this was a bad idea, he knew the chances of him actually being able to save him were really slim, that this was probably even something the nightmare king had planned all along, and yet, he could not stop. Even if this was irrational, he had to go. He had to go, because he could not imagine letting his child bear such torments alone. He had to go, for he knew that if he didn’t, his conscience would not let him live. Reason, strategy, safety … for once, the king had brought sound arguments. Still, he had to continue. Even if it was a mistake, it felt right. This proved that he cared. This proved that he could call himself a father.

…

The pale king looked at the gate, struggling to understand what had just happened. Why would Grimm persist in making a decision that was so obviously bad ? Why would he say something like this ?

Black shapes were creeping in the corner of his vision, and he could feel his presence just behind him. He was there, looking at him with a scornful expression, the king with no light and brittle shell, as the room was being filled with a dark sort of water.

Grimm … why would he do something so senseless ? Was he so eager to join the king of nightmares? But this could not be, right, he was his ally, his friend…

“ Canst thou afford allies and friends, with blood on fangs and blood on blades ?

Canst thou afford trust, when their minds are being taken over ?”

Long tendrils were filling the black water that was now at the level of his waist, they turned slowly around his legs, and he felt the hand of the empty king on his shoulders. His raspy, ominous voice merged with his own thoughts, as more visions began to cloud his sight. This made sense, didn’t it, the fact that so many had attacked him, that they had betrayed his trust, that they had used his own feelings against him. This made sense that Grimm knew the words that would hurt him the most. Slowly, they were turning against him…

“ They’re already being ripped away from you. The gods of dreams are taking over, they will turn their minds against you.”

This was not the king behind him. This was his own voice. The black tendrils rose out of water, turning into horrible plants with many eyes, all turned towards him, shining like golden petals. Even if they were loyal, even if they were strong… They could be infected at any moment, they could be manipulated, controlled from afar by the gods of dreams and nightmares.

“Thou canst not trust. Too easy, too lenient.”

Plants and water faded away, his sight became clearer, but the voice still resounded in his head. The idea was here, now, planted deeply in his mind. Whatever he was about to do, he would have to do it alone.

The king walked back to his workshop and looked at his first void creations. Kingsmoulds. These pieces of armour were not strong enough to contain two gods. For this, he would need something more elaborate, something that was not a piece of machinery filled with the black substance of the abyss. He needed something that contained the essence of void, something he could control. Something that maintained its link with the endless pit below…

He looked at the armours again. These were machines. Obedient, useful. They had no mind, so it was impossible for one of the two gods to use them as spies or traitors. For the heavy lifting, these would do. As for the actual research … He could sleep when he was done. For now, he needed to be fast. The more he waited, the more he would lose, the more they would turn against him.

If he really wanted to save them, he had to push forward. Be fast, do not question, keep advancing, do not look back…

The king began to draw plans for the ultimate seal. The egg of void, the bindings. This did not please him, but it seemed that to achieve this, he would need the abilities of the weavers. This containment device had to mix together the void and his own magic, two things that were hardly compatible. He could enchant objects, like the armours, but he never managed to tie his light with void itself. The weavers could attach anything. Their magic was one of unity. World thread, some of them would say.

A thread. This reminded him of the seal of promise. Strangely, it was still there. Maybe it was the sign of something, that perhaps, Grimm did not mean…

He shook his head. He could not afford to be distracted. He should not let his thoughts wander, he should push forwards, continue with unbreakable resolve … lest he shall betray himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grimm, I understand you feel hopeless and all, but that was not very nice, even if PK has as much tact as a rhino ...
> 
> Yeah, paranoïa ! That was definitely something we needed, right ?


End file.
